Someone to Watch Over Me
by The Lonely Goatherd
Summary: Olive is tired of falling in love with the wrong man. But when a stranger makes his way into the gangs life at the Pie Hole Olive suddenly wonders if her woeful years are over. Or is there more to Mr New Guy than meets the eye? OliveOC
1. Chapter One: Unrequited Love Syndrome

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, I don't own Pushing Daisies…

**Author's Note: **Well hello! This idea struck me the other day and I couldn't help but write. This fic is also based on an episode from Kristin Chenoweth's short-lived sitcom "Kristin"…so I don't own that either…

This first chapter is pretty much just a buffer chapter, I suppose you could call it, setting everything up until the plot really gets going…ALSO! the title is subject to change as soon as I think of something else...

**Summary: **Olive is tired of falling in love with the wrong man. But when a stranger makes his way into the gangs life at the Pie Hole Olive suddenly wonders if her woeful years are over. Has Olive finally found the man to get her over Ned? Or is there more to Mr. New Guy than meets the eye?

* * *

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter One: Unrequited Love Syndrome**

Olive Snook suffered from what she liked to call "Unrequited Love Syndrome", but for the sake of time we shall simply refer to it as ULS. The side-affects of ULS are neither deadly nor fatal, but rather emotionally depressing. Olive always found herself falling for the wrong man at the wrong time.

There was Neal, the football player who had been in her high school math class, who had told her he wasn't going to prom then showed up with Patricia Anderson, who was also in her math class. There was Phillip, the TA for her Religions 100 class in college, who had told her that TAs were not allowed to date students then ended up dating and marrying Tabitha Beachly, who had been another student in the same class; (the fact that the two ended up divorcing always made Olive smile, though she would never admit it). Then there was Aaron, the stable boy from racing rink who took care of her beloved Pi and all the other horses, who she had dated for a month, then reluctantly dumped after she found out he had a boyfriend.

And of course the many, many men who fell in between. From freakishly tall to too short for, even, Olive, they were all men who didn't love her back. Men who didn't want to touch her in the way that Ned didn't want to touch her.

Now with the mention of the pie maker we find ourselves in the present, with Olive obediently and hopelessly in love with her shy employer. Once again, a man who loved, not her, but another woman; a woman who was, unfortunately and fortunately, becoming her best friend.

It was all so simply-complex. Or was it complexly-simple? Olive neither knew nor cared. The only thing she was certain of was the fact that this time ULS was never going to go away and she was never going to get over it…

* * *

"Just…a little…further…ugh…" Olive stood at the edge a chair, trying desperately to reach the top shelf above the oven. All she wanted was a measuring cup that someone had carelessly placed in the wrong spot. Leanly forward a little more, Olive felt the chair slide on the tiled floor beneath her, sending her forward into the oven. Before she could brace herself further, she fell off the chair, falling to the ground. She clenched her eyes and grit her teeth, fully waiting for impact. 

However, Olive Snook was fully surprised to realize that the impact never came. Carefully she opened her eyes to see Ned staring at her from above, making her realize that his arms were wrapped tightly around her.

"Olive, what were you doing?" he asked.

Olive simply stared, overwhelmed with the fact that the pie maker had yet to put her down. "I—uh…pie…cup…g-get."

Ned's brow slowly furrowed at Olive's lack of response. Slowly, realization dawned on him and he looked to where is arms were wrapped around her petite frame, wondering how they had gotten.

He coughed, looking decidedly more and more uncomfortable.

Olive laughed awkwardly. "Funny how we find ourselves in these situations more and more after we come to our mutual agreement of no touching in a way that we shouldn't be touching; which we are right now. In the way that we shouldn't be…"

Ned laughed nervously, unable to form a response.

"Hey Olive, I was wondering if you could take this pie to…" Chuck's voice trailed off as she entered the kitchen, the sight of Olive in Ned's arms greeting her.

"Chuck!" Ned exclaimed, in an unnatural high voice, as he dropped Olive.

"Ah!" Olive yelled, as she dropped to the ground, landing hard on her behind.

"Olive," Chuck said, rushing to the blonde's side. She grabbed one of Olive's arms as Ned grabbed the other, pulling the smaller woman to her feet.

"Ow," Olive said once she was standing, rubbing her behind.

"Olive, I—uh…sorry…"

"What were you two doing?" Chuck asked looking between the too, unable to decide if she was jealous or amused. Or rather, if she should be jealous or amused.

Ned opened and closed his mouth, trying to decide what to say. To explain. The last thing he needed was Chuck thinking that something really was going on between him and Olive. Guiltily, he looked to Olive for help, but she seemed to be as flabbergasted as he was.

"I was trying to get a measuring cup," Olive quickly explained, pointing to the cupboard. Despite the fact that she had more than welcomed the feel of Ned's arms around her, Olive was suddenly overcome with guilt at being caught in the position by Chuck.

"Yes," Ned quickly agreed, talking faster than he should have. "And she was falling, so I caught her."

Olive nodded, overly enthusiastic. "Yes, that's all it was. A friend helping a friend, who are in no way what so ever romantically involved." Olive mentally smacked herself. Why did she have to bring up the word romance around Ned? "You know me…ever the klutz."

Chuck decided that being amused was the right reaction to have. She smiled kindly. "So much for saving you, since he dropped you anyways."

Olive's hand instinctively shot to her back, as Ned appeared to blush. "Right, well, I'll see you later," Ned said, walking quickly from the room.

Olive stood awkwardly before Chuck, "I swear that's all it was," she spoke again before Chuck could open her mouth. "It probably didn't even last more than a couple of seconds. You know, slip, catch, you, drop! Heh, heh…"

Chuck laughed quietly. "I believe you, Olive." The blonde nodded, still refusing to meet Chuck's eyes.

"But anyways, I have another pie ready for my aunts. Will you take it?"

Olive nodded. "Yes, I'll go right now."

"Oh you don't have to, you know if your busy."

"Nope," Olive's voice was firm. She wanted desperately to get as far away from The Pie Hole as possible at that moment.

Chuck nodded and walked to the refrigerator, pulling out the pie for her aunts. "So they're really doing better?"

Despite her embarrassment, Olive smiled genuinely. "The last time I was there Aunt Vivian told me that they had finally gotten back in the water. But Aunt Lily still isn't sure about the comeback tour."

Chuck smiled. "Well, that's progress. Maybe this pie will help."

"I still don't understand how a pie came do so much. I mean, I love 'em too, but it's only a pie, Chuck."

Chuck shrugged and grinned, "Sometimes it just takes a slice of happiness to get people going again."

Olive nodded and picked up the pie. "Keep an eye on things up front; I'll be back in a bit."

"Bye, Olive."

Olive waved and walked to the back door of The Pie Hole. Balancing the pie in one arm, she reached to open the door, but Chuck's voice stopped her.

"Olive?"

"Yes, Chuck?" she replied, turning back to face the brunette.

"Thanks again…you know, for everything."

Olive smiled, though this time, it didn't quite reach her eyes. She some how had a feeling that Chuck's thank you wasn't just for taking the pies to her aunts, but also for her relationship, or lack of relationship, with Ned.

Olive Snook turned, opened the door, and disappeared into the sunny day; getting as far away from The Pie Hole, Ned, and Chuck as humanly possible.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there you have it chapter one! I don't know when I'll be updating again…I've got finals this entire week but then break…so hopefully I'll be able to get some updating done then…let me know what you think! 

Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd


	2. Chapter Two: The Horse

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pushing Daisies…woe is me…

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Two: The Horse**

"You know Olive," Charlotte Charles said as she and Olive were cleaning up the kitchen one night after closing. "You really should get back out there."

"Get back out where?" Olive asked, taking a pile of dirty plates to the sink.

"You know," Chuck replied, her voice tentative. "Back into the dating scene…"

Olive groaned and dumped the plates into the soapy water. "Chuck," she said, turning towards the brunette and leaning against the metal sink. "I thought I told you I didn't want to have this 'get back on your horse' talk."

Chuck shrugged. "I know, but you really should. You're obvious not happy," Olive narrowed her eyes at Chuck's blatant observation. "You should find someone to make you happy."

Olive folded her arms defensively. "Need I remind you, once again, that I found that someone. And, once again, you were the one who came a long and pushed me off the horse." Olive's voice was sharper than she intended it to be, but she found she hardly cared at the moment. Since when was her love life the center topic of gossip and discussion at The Pie Hole?

Chuck winced slightly then sighed. "I know, and you have no idea how sorry I am about it." Olive raised her brow. "Well, not sorry in the sense that--," Olive interrupted her with the raising of a hand, cutting her off before she could finish the sentence. "But sorry none-the-less. Look Olive, it's not like I pushed you off the horse completely. Only a little bit, like half way. Right now you're more like dangling off the horse."

"Dangling or not, I'm still off the horse."

"Yes but falling off completely can result in fatal disaster. Like a broken leg or ending up paralyzed. There's still a chance for you to get back on."

Olive felt something inside her snap. She did not wan to have this conversation with anyone, especially one Charlotte Charles. She already knew how sad her love life was and how hopelessly rejected she must look. But it wasn't anyone's business. Why couldn't Chuck just leave well enough alone and let her drown in her own sorrow?

Chuck took a small step forward reaching out to place a hand on Olive's forearm. Olive crossed her arms tighter across her chest, shielding Chuck off. It made it worse that the two women were becoming friends. If their relationship grew anymore Olive would even consider the brunette her best friend. A line she was dreading to cross. Chuck's open-hearted concern made matters so much worse.

"Dangling from the side can still result in a broken neck," Olive answered bitterly. "Look Chuck, I've had my fair share of falling off of horses, both literally and figuratively, and I think this time I should let myself dangle until I fall off for good."

"Someone's falling off of horses?" Both woman jumped and turned to see the object of their discussion, and mutual affection, standing in the door way with Emerson Codd.

"Was it during your, you know, horsey days?" Emerson laughed, pretending to hold reigns.

"I'll show you horsey days," Olive muttered taking a threatening step towards Emerson. Chuck quickly jumped forward and grabbed Olive's arm holding her back. Both men raised their eyebrows at Olive's out-of-character display of contempt.

"Are you alright, Olive?" Ned asked.

"Peachy as pie," Olive replied, shrugging her arm out of Chuck's grasp and smiling too sweetly.

Ned swallowed uncomfortably, "Right, well I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind locking up tonight by yourself, we," the pie maker explained, pointing to Emerson and himself, "Have, uh, business and we need Chuck."

"Technically we don't _need_ Chuck, you just choose to--" Ned elbowed Emerson, cutting off his quiet mumblings.

"So is that alright with you?" Ned asked, giving Olive a small smile.

Olive felt her heart break even more, if it were possible. She had helped the other three solve cases before and the rejection of not being asked to come along hurt more than she would have liked to believe. Was she really that unattractive to Ned that he couldn't even ask for her help?

"Sure fine, no problem. I'll just take Digby with me then? Good, perfect," she rambled walking away from Chuck and past Ned and Emerson, taking a sudden interest in the tiled floor, refusing to meet anyone's eye. "Send my regards to the dead. Goodnight."

Without a backwards glance Olive went into the dining area and began cleaning up; not taking notice to the fact that a rush of fear raced through the kitchen at her last remark.

The three occupants of the kitchen watched her pick up the chairs and place them upside down on the tables.

"Y-y-you don't think she knows, do you?" Ned asked, looking at Chuck, frantically.

"No, she doesn't know, trust me," Chuck replied, keeping her eyes trained on Olive.

"The hell just happened? Did she really ju--"

"Giver her a break, Emerson, she's going through a rough time," Chuck spoke quickly, sending him a small glare.

The pie maker stood listening to Chuck, taken aback by the bitter edge that was slowly seeping into her usually sweet voice.

"Chuck, are you okay?" Ned asked, taking a step forward and extending his arm to show concern, but not enough to risk touching her.

"Sure, fine," she replied, looking over Ned at Olive's petite form.

"Are you?"

Emerson rolled his eyes. "There's no way I'm sticking around for this. I'll be in the car, hurry up."

Ned waited for Emerson to leave the kitchen before turning his attention back to Chuck. "Chuck what's wrong?"

"I don't think I'm the one you should be asking that to, Ned," Chuck answered, still keeping her eyes on Olive's busy form.

"Who Olive? She's always happy."

Chuck rolled her eyes. "You call what just happened happy?"

"Well, maybe not happy-happy, a slightly less the normal-happy-but-still-happy-happy…"

Chuck sighed, "I feel awful."

"Why?"

"Because _I'm_ happy."

"You're unhappy because you're happy?"

"Happiness at the expense of others isn't really worth it, is it?"

Ned laughed nervously, "Chuck what are you talking about?"

Chuck shook her head and waved her hand. "Nothing you need to worry about," she said, tearing her eyes from Olive and finally looking at the pie maker. "Come on, Emerson's waiting."

"Is she going to be okay?" Ned asked, making Chuck stop half way to the door. He tilted his head towards Olive.

Chuck shrugged. "Maybe, I don't know. She was right. She just needs to be angry first." With a sad, but kind smile Chuck left the kitchen.

Ned stood alone in the kitchen slightly dazed at what had just happened, his mouth hanging open in surprise. He turned his head to look at Olive one more time, through the windowed opening in the kitchen, before walking out the back door of the restaurant—convincing himself that the slight shaking of Olive's body hadn't been from the tears that coated her crystal blue eyes.

* * *

The tables were clean, the chairs were put up, and the tiled floor was spotless, but Olive Snook had yet to leave The Pie Hole. She paced, back and forth in front of the counter, a watchful Digby sitting patiently and following her every move.

"I mean, who does she think she is? My mother?" Olive rambled, waving her arms in the air. She grumbled and wiped at her tear soaked cheeks. The tears had finally stopped, but had left their mark. "Acts like she knows me…thinks I need to be happy…I'll show her happy."

Digby barked and wagged his tail, drawing Olive's attention out of herself.

The blonde sighed and finally sat on one of the bar stools, her high-heeled shoes dangling mid-air. "Oh Digby," she said, as the ginger-haired dog trotted over to her and sat obediently by her side. "I think I'm losing my mind." Digby replied by licking her hand and smiling in the way that only a dog could.

"Why does Chuck have to be so nice about it? Why can't she be jealous or upset or mad or something!" Digby tilted his head to the side. "Oh don't give me that look, just because she's become my friend. Some friend, coming in here and taking Ned." Digby barked. "Well of course he wasn't mine, I know that. But I had hope that maybe someday. Now I think someday is going to be never…"

Digby whined and nudged Olive's hand until it was atop his head and stroking his fur softly. "But the least she could do is…is…touch him! I mean really, what is the whole plastic wrap kissing thing? Some food allergy." Digby nudged her hand again. "Well of course it would make all the difference. If they at least touched, the way normal people do who are involved, then I don't think I would feel so …stupid. I mean, if she can't touch him, why can't I?"

Digby barked once more, turning his head from Olive and looking towards the door.

Olive groaned and smacked herself in the forehead. "Why does this always happen to me, Digby? Every single time I think I can get what I want someone else comes waltzing in the door." She groaned again, burring her face in her hands. "I have lost my mind…I'm talking to a dog."

"Where I'm from that's usually certifiable."

Olive screamed and jumped off her chair, snapping her head to the front door of The Pie Hole. There, looking at her with a bemused smile was a man she had never met before. "Who are you?" she shrieked, panicked.

"I—," the man started taking a step forward.

"Don't you come any closer!" Olive scrambled, running behind the counter as fast has her heels would let her. "I know all sorts of fung-kwan-do-fu…I—I can snap you in half with my little finger…" she rambled nervously, grabbing the nearest thing she could get a hold of. A whisk. Feeling scared and ridiculous she held the cooking utensil out in front of her.

The man chuckled quietly, holding his hands up in front of him, and taking a gentle step forward. "You can put your weapon away, I'm not going to hurt you."

"How do I know that?"

"Do I look like I would hurt you?"

Olive held the whisk tighter. "It's always the nice looking ones that turn out to be crazy."

"So I suppose I could assume the same of you?"

Despite herself Olive blushed, not sure if the man was complimenting her or making fun of her.

"I promise I'm not going to hurt you, I just came here to ask for directions."

"Directions?" Olive asked accusingly, pointing the whisk towards his chest.

"To the nearest hotel."

"Nearest hotel?"

The man laughed loudly, "Yes, you do know what that is? A place to stay when you travel out of town or you're kicked out of your apartment?" he said, pointing to his suitcase that sat by the door.

"Oh," Olive said, lowering the whisk, but keeping it in her hand for safe measure. "Heh…sorry."

"That's alright," the man laughed again, lowering his arms. "A pretty girl like you has to keep her guard up."

Olive blushed again. "So directions?"

"Yes?" Silence. "In order for me to get the directions you have to give them to me."

"Right!" Olive said, feeling her blush deepen. "Just go back down the road and take a right on Maple Street. There's a small inn a couple blocks down."

The man nodded. "Thank you," he said, walking back to the door and his suitcase. "You've been of the utmost help, have a good night."

Olive watched as he picked up his suitcase and went to open the door. "Wait!" she called before she realized she had done it."

"Yes?"

"Um, how long were you standing there? Before I almost attacked you."

The man stood quietly, studying Olive for a moment before speaking "Long enough to know that you're unhappy and in some need of something to make it better." Olive blushed and averted her eyes. "Or is it someone?"

"That's none of your business," Olive said, waving the whisk in his direction, her voice suddenly harsh.

"Ah," he said, tapping his nose. "It is."

"Would you mind leaving, we are closed."

The man chuckled again, the laugh was starting to become obnoxious to Olive. "Might I remind you that you were the one who stopped me when I was leaving."

Olive huffed and crossed her arms. He laughed again and Olive glared. "Have a nice night, whisk girl, have fun talking to your dog."

Before Olive Snook could reply her visitor had disappeared into the night, the whisk making a loud noise as it hit the door behind him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there's chapter two! Hope you enjoyed! I don't know when I'll be updating again...but hopefully it will be soon!

Thanks to anyone who reviewed!

Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd


	3. Chapter Three: The Employee

**Disclaimer: **Pushing Daisies most definitely does not belong to me…though I wish it did…

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Three: The Employee**

Unlike most people in the world, Olive Snook was happier when the sun didn't shine. Sunny days were nice, to an extent, but to Olive nothing beat an overcast day. Except an overcast day when it rained; which was then only beaten by an overcast day that snowed. So it came as quite a surprise the next morning, after Olive's mystery man and whisk incident, that she bounded into The Pie Hole, happy as ever…

"Good morning!" Olive said, brightly, shrugging off her coat and putting into the small hidden closet before as she entered the kitchen.

Both Ned and Chuck looked up from the counter where they had been sharing a breakfast of toast and jam. The two love birds looked to each other, both expecting a not-so-pleasant Olive to be the one to greet them.

"Um, hi Olive," Chuck said turning on her stool to face Olive.

"You seem to be in a better mood today Olive," Ned added. Chuck gasped and made a motion as if to hit the pie maker. 'Sorry' he mouthed, before turning back to Olive and giving her a shy smile.

"It's snowing!" Olive replied, pointedly ignoring Ned and Chuck's quick exchange. "I just love the snow, don't you? Puts me the in the best of moods."

Chuck smiled. "We can see that. Uh, Ned? Would you mind giving Olive and me some privacy I want to talk to her about something." The grin on Olive's face wavered.

The pie maker opened his mouth to protest that anything Chuck had to say could be said in front of him, after all the never kept secrets from one another anymore, but when he caught the pleading look in Chuck's eyes and the, now, fake smile on Olive's face he quickly stood. "Sure, sure…I'll just uh…see if we have any early morning customers."

As a flustered Ned left the kitchen Olive walked to the open window way that opened to the main room and leaned against it, crossing her arms and staring pointedly at Chuck. The brunette turned completely on her barstool until she was facing the other woman.

"Look Olive, I just want to say sorry about last night. I know you didn't want to talk about it and I did anyways…and we were almost overheard by Ned and Emerson. So I, yeah, I'm sorry."

Olive sighed, lowered her arms, and looked to the ground. "I know Chuck, and I know you just want to help. But…I think right now I just need to…"

"To?..."

"Well, I don't know…but what ever it is I need to do it alone. Okay?" Olive asked, rising her head to meet Chucks' gaze.

Chuck smiled. "Okay."

Olive smiled in return. "Good, now why don't you start bakin' some pies and I'll start a-sellin'."

"Um, Olive?" Ned asked, sticking his head back in the kitchen before Chuck could respond. The two women looked his way, noting the slightly daze and confused look he was wearing.

"Yes?"

"There's…um…this guy…out here…asking about you."

"About me?"

Ned nodded.

"Who is it?"

Chuck smirked. "You have an admirer you haven't told us about Olive?" she asked, bemused.

Olive snorted, "Hardly," she said as she turning to see who was asking for her.

"It was really weird, he called you—," Ned's voice trailed off as he shook his head.

"Whisk-girl!"

Olive felt her jaw drop. There standing in the entry way to The Pie Hole was the man who had scared her last night, a newspaper tucked under his arm. He waved slightly upon seeing that he had her attention.

"You have got to be kidding me," Olive muttered, quickly walking out of the kitchen.

"Whisk girl?" she heard Chuck ask Ned as she left.

"Is it a habit of yours lurking in doorways?" she asked, crossing her arms as she approached the man. "Or is it something new you'd thought you'd try out?"

"Good morning to you too, I'm fine, and yourself? Wonderful! Why yes a table by the window and a cup of coffee would be perfect. Thank you," the man rambled moving his hands around as he spoke, giving Olive a sly grin. Without waiting for her to reply he walked further into the restaurant and to one of the booths by the long window. Opening the paper and beginning to read it the minute he sat down.

Olive stood, rooted in the same spot, her mouth agape. She felt as if she had been slapped. Not in the sense that his words had stung her. No. In the sense that she was acutely aware of what had just happened but she could neither move nor formulate a proper response.

After taking a moment to recover she squared her shoulders and marched, determinedly, over to his booth; stopping in front of the table.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked, her voice caring a little too much honey.

"What's your name?" he asked, never taking his eyes off of his paper.

"Excuse me?"

"Your name…What is it?"

"Why?" Olive asked, matching his tone. "Do you care?"

"Because," he replied, folding his paper and looking at her. "I like to know the name of the people who serve me my food. There's something highly unappetizing about receiving food from a stranger. Knowing their name makes the whole process slightly more comforting. And this way, if the person spits in my food I at least know whose spit I'm receiving."

Olive simply stared, feeling a response at the tip of her tongue, but unable to voice it.

"So your name?"

"Olive," she replied, before she could stop herself.

"Like the food?"

Olive rolled her eyes, "No, like the breed of dog." The man chuckled and Olive was suddenly hit with the memories of the night before. "And your name, sir?"

"My name?"

"Yes, your name. What…is it?"

"Why?...Do you care?"

"Because," Olive replied, leaning forward slightly to become eye level with the man. "I like to know the names of the patrons I serve, so when I decide to spit in their food I don't feel so bad about it. Makes it more comforting."

The man laughed. "Cheeky."

Olive groaned and stepped back. "Can I get you anything? Or are you going to keep me here until I get in trouble with the boss, lose my job, and end up leaving on the streets, forced to become a street performer?"

The man laughed loudly, making Ned and Chuck share another look from their spot in the kitchen where they stood watching.

"An espresso."

"Right," she replied, exhaling on the 't' as she turned and walked away.

"And Jonah."

"What?" Olive asked, turning back to the man.

"My name," he said, with a nod. "Is Jonah."

* * *

"Thank you so much Mrs. McLauden. Be sure to tell Mr. McLauden I say hello."

"Of course Olive, dear, bye now." Old Mrs. McLauden said as she stood from her table.

"Goodbye," Olive said, picking up the used plate and smiling kindly at the older woman. As she passed by the door she got a glimpse to the snow covered streets and felt her heart jump. The day was progressing too slow for her liking.

"Um, excuse? Hello?"

Olive was snapped from her wishing by Jonah waving his hand up and down in front of her face. She jumped, not having noticed that she had stopped right in front of him.

"Yes, Jonah was it?" she asked, tilting her head to the side like Digby often did. "Is there something I can get you?"

"Why, yes," he said with a smile. "There is."

Now that Olive Snook was neither scared nor surprised to see him she seemed to notice his features for the first time. He had brown hair, not too short not too long. His eyes were a vibrant shade of blue, unlike any Olive had ever seen before. He had a strong jaw and his mouth seemed to be always turned up in a smirk. If he were to stand, Olive recalled, he would be quite tall; not as tall as Ned, but tall none-the-less. He was, Olive hated to admit, quite attractive.

"I'd like a slice of pie."

Jonah's voice once again snapped Olive from her observations, his smirk widening. Olive blushed, having a feeling that he knew exactly what she had been doing.

"Right, pie," she said, standing up straight, "What kind would you like."

"Which do you recommend?"

Olive smiled slightly, "Three berry," she replied, sharing her 'pie-of-the-day'

"Hm…no, what else?"

"Peach."

"No too peachy."

"Apple."

"Naw, I'm not in an apple kind of mood."

"Chocolate silk."

"No, too silky."

"Banana cream?"

"Nope, I can often be allergic, depends on the day."

"Plum?"

"Oh no, who in their right mind would eat that?"

"Pumpkin?"

"You know," he said, ignoring her last choice. "I'll think I'll go with a nice slice of Three Berry, that sounds good don't you think?"

Olive sighed, exasperated. "As anyone ever told you that you're slightly annoying?" she asked, tapping her foot.

Jonah smiled. "On occasion," he said, "But did it ever occur to you that I may be doing it on purpose?"

"And why would do that?"

"Maybe I think you're cute when you get flustered."

Olive blushed. "I'll get your pie."

* * *

"I need a slice of Three Berry," Olive said to Chuck as she entered the kitchen.

"Sure thing," Chuck replied, turning to get the pie.

Carefully Olive crept to one of the pillars separating the kitchen and dining area. In a stealthily way she peaked around its corner, staring at Jonah. He was reading his newspaper, laughing quietly to himself. Olive scowled. Before she could register what happened, Jonah was looking at her, his smirk widening. He offered a small wave. Blushing Olive disappeared into the kitchen.

* * *

As the hours ticked by in The Pie Hole and the busiest hours of the day disappeared with the customers so did Ned and Chuck. Having left to help Emerson, once again, they left Olive alone to tend to the few customers that were left. The blonde did everything in her power to avoid going by Jonah's table—who had yet to leave. She even went to the lengths of walking around the counter or through the kitchen just to get to the opposite side of the restaurant. She refused to allow herself to be subject to his witty tongue and more than annoying tactics.

So she went on with her day. Smiling at the customers and being as pleasant as she could, having the feeling that Jonah was watching her every move.

When closing finally arrived, Olive felt more triumphant than she had in a while. With a smug smile she turned her attention to her final customer.

"We're closing now," Olive said, approaching Jonah's table, but staying as far away as she could. "Here's your check," she finished, holding the paper out.

"May I say something to you?"

"If I say 'no', are you still going to say it?"

"Yes."

Olive sighed and sat down across from him in the booth. "What is it then?"

"I don't think you're trying hard enough," he stated simply, looking at his finger nails.

"Trying what hard enough?" Olive asked, her brow knitting together.

"I don't think you're trying hard enough to be happy," he said bluntly, finding Olive's eyes with his own and holding them.

Olive felt the color drain from her face. "Excuse me?"

Jonah tapped his nose like he had the night before. "You're only pretending to be happy. And pretending is hardly trying."

Olive's back stiffened and she grabbed the table's edge, her fingers turning white. "I'm perfectly happy."

"Oh sure, you are. You smile and act pleasant and joke and flirt and what ever else it is you waitresses do. But nothing you do ever reaches your eyes."

"And how would you know that?" Olive asked, through her clenched teeth.

"I've been watching you all day."

"Because that's something you should openly admit. What are you my new stalker?"

Jonah smiled crookedly. "And if I am? Are you going to use some of your fung-kwan-do-fu to stop me?"

Olive blushed, glared and stood quickly from the table. "Here's you check, now would you please pay and leave."

Jonah picked up the small piece of paper and examined it. "I don't have any money," he stated after a moment.

Olive's eyes widened. "What?" she asked, trying to stay calm, but her voice wavering slightly.

"I don't have any money, cash or credit, with me."

"Wait," Olive said, holding up her hand. "Let me get this right. You came in here, to a restaurant, sat in the same booth all day, ordered three cups of coffee, three slices of pie, and a bowl of ice cream, knowing that you didn't have any money to pay for it?"

Jonah thought for a moment, tapping his chin. "Sounds about right."

Olive took in a deep breath and clenched her fists together. "Were you hoping I would call the police?"

Jonah laughed. "No, I was hoping I would be able to pay my bill in another way," he said, standing.

Olive's eyes widened again. She quickly took a step back and held up her hand. "You just stay right there, don't you come any closer."

Jonah rolled his eyes. "Oh come off it, I didn't mean that," he said, "I told you I wasn't going to hurt you or anything like that before, didn't I?" Olive opened her mouth to respond Jonah continued on. "I merely meant I'll help you clean up. Maybe wash the dishes?" he finished, pointing to the kitchen.

Olive narrowed her eyes and looked to the kitchen where a high pile a dishes stood waiting to be cleaned.

"I promise I won't hurt you or do any other scenario that may be running through your petite mind."

"How do I know that?"

Jonah laughed. "I promise that if I hurt you I will personally call the police myself."

Olive guffawed and crossed her arms.

"How else are you going to get your payment for what I had? Unless you plan on explaining to your boss that you just let me leave without paying."

Olive's face fell. Disappointing Ned was the last thing she wanted to do. The look on his face alone when it happened was enough to make Olive's heart snap. She sighed, angrily. "Fine," she said, pointing to the kitchen. "Aprons are in the closet over there. Clean the dishes and put them away and then leave."

Jonah saluted. "Yes, ma'am. The Pie Hole," he said, walking into the kitchen. "Such an interesting name."

"Yes," Olive seethed, making a mental note that she officially did not like Jonah. "As in shut your."

* * *

"Ned, just think of the possibilities!" Chuck exclaimed as she, Ned, and Emerson walked into the back door to the kitchen of The Pie Hole.

"Chuck, I just don't like the idea of adding cheesecake to the menu," Ned replied, rubbing his neck. "It's not even pie, cheesecake. Cheese_cake_. See the word cake is in it. Indicating what it is."

"But it's more like a pie than a cake. It's got that yummy gram cracker crust and gooey cheesey filling. That classifies it as a pie."

"Because it has the gooey cheesey filling?" Emerson asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No!" Chuck exclaimed. "Because of the crust! The anatomy of it nearly screams pie. The name is just there to throw people off."

"I don't know…"

"Think of how many more customers we would get. Do you know how many people love cheesecake?"

"She has a point you know," Emerson said, "Nothing beats cheesecake."

"Yeah, but we're more of a traditional pie place. Cheesecake would make us untraditional. That would be like if Dilly started to sell cookies. Cookies are in the same sugary sweet category as candy, but it's just not candy!"

"But cheesecake is pie!"

"No it's—," Ned stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing that they were not the only three occupants of the kitchen. "May I help you?"

"I think the question is, may _I_ help _you_," Jonah said, pushing away from the sink that he had been resting against. Ned looked to Chuck who shrugged and Emerson rolled his eyes.

"Who are you?" Ned asked, quickly realizing that this was the same man who had been inquiring after Olive that morning.

"A royal pain in my--,"

"Jonah," the man supplied quickly interrupting Olive as the blonde walked into the kitchen. "Jonah Burke."

Olive walked to where Ned, Chuck, and Emerson were standing, finally feeling one-hundred percent comfortable now that she wasn't alone with this strange man who had slowly made her day worse and worse by the second.

"Okay, but what are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Cleaning the dishes."

Ned nodded, "But why?"

"I couldn't pay my bill."

Ned looked to Olive, who shrugged. "I figured I couldn't just let him walk away without doing something," she supplied, looking a little nervous and slightly uncomfortable.

Ned offered her a small smile earning a beaming one from the blonde in return. "Well thank you, but I think you can go now."

"Actually," Jonah said, taking off his apron and placing it on the counter that separated him and the four other people in the room. "I was wondering if I could talk to you. You are the owner, right?"

"About?" Ned asked with reserve and a nod.

"Working here," Jonah explained, sending Olive a vibrant grin.

Olive's face fell. "No. No, no, no, no, no." she said, stepping forward and turning to Ned. "Please," she whispered.

Ned looked down to Olive, puzzled, before looking over her head at Jonah. "I don't know…"

"I know it seems odd, but I am in desperate need of some money."

And he was. The facts were these:

Jonah Burke, twenty-nine years, four months, and thirty-eight minutes old, most recent, and now ex, girlfriend had been his business partner, running their Home Away From Home Doggy and Kitty Day Care-Care Home Center. After having an argument about whether to buy dog bone wallpaper or fish wallpaper for their newly refurnished play room, Jonah had been kicked out of his job and apartment. He was then left to live on the streets for two days until he could break back into the apartment and reclaim all of his possessions.

"…So now I'm using all the money I have to stay at the hotel down the street," Jonah finished, giving Olive a wink. Olive rolled her eyes. "And I could really use a job."

Ned sighed and looked uncomfortably at the man across the room, to Olive (who was vibrantly shaking her head), then back to Jonah. "I—I don't know, I—we have all the help we need really, already," he said, pulling on the collar of his shirt. The pie maker hated to turn people down. "Sorry."

Jonah smiled kindly. "That's quite alright, I'll search elsewhere."

"Oh come on Ned," Chuck spoke up, stepping forward. "Where's your holiday generosity? We could always use some more help around here."

"I agree with Ned," Olive spoke quickly, making Jonah chuckle. "We've already got all the help we need anymore and we'd close for being to service friendly."

Chuck smiled and walked over to Jonah, as if inspecting him. "He looks nice enough and all of the dishes are finally clean. We usually always have dishes that are waiting to be cleaned."

"Yes, but—,"

"And you let me come to work when you already had more than enough help," Chuck continued on, looking at Olive.

"Yes, but you're different," Ned replied, through the side of his mouth.

"Chuck," Olive spoke, walking over to the woman. "Can I talk to you, _out here_," she said, pulling the taller woman out of the kitchen. "What are you doing!" she whispered loudly.

"Just trying to get into the holiday spirit early and give someone a job they need."

"That's fine, but spread the cheer onto someone else. Go find a homeless person and give them a job, anyone but him."

"But he practically is homeless, Olive. And," she added, leaning forward and lowering her voice. "I think he likes you," she whispered excitedly.

"What!" Olive almost shrieked.

Chuck nodded. "He keeps looking at you and smiling at you. Look, he's looking right now."

Olive turned and looked back in the kitchen. Sure enough, Jonah was staring at her, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. She turned back to Chuck. "Chuck," she warned. "I thought I told you I didn't want to have this conversation anymore."

"But I'm not, Olive this is a sign."

"A sign?" the look on Olive's face could almost be considered disgust.

"Yes. One minute you and I are talking about how you should get back out there and the next thing you know there _he_," she pointed to Jonah, "is."

Olive shook her head and covered her eyes with her hand. "Chuck, I swear if I didn't like you so much I'd hit you."

"Then you agree with me?"

"No!" Olive said quickly, but too late as Chuck made her way back into the kitchen. "Chuck!" she yelled running into the woman as she stopped. Olive waved her eyes as she began to fall backward, when she felt two strong hands grip her shoulder to steady her. She smiled and turned, fully expecting to see Ned standing behind her, but found Jonah looking at her with a bemused smile. Her face fell.

"Have you reached a decision?" he asked Olive, as she moved away from him. She simply shrugged and moved to the opposite side of the counter, no placing her across from everyone else.

"Well Ned?" Chuck asked.

Ned shifted and looked at Emerson. "Don't look at me, I'm merely a humble customer."

"Right," Ned said. He looked at Olive's pleading eyes, then Chuck's encouraging smile before finally settling Jonah.

From where she stood Olive Snook knew the answer before Ned even opened his mouth. For when it came between choosing what she and Chuck wanted, the pie maker would always choose Chuck.

Ned sighed. "Welcome to The Pie Hole," he said, extending a hand to Jonah, who shook it gratefully.

"Well, Olive," Jonah said, turning to look at his new peer. "Looks like we're co-workers now."

Olive groaned and let her head fall forward to hit the counter.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there's chapter three. I don't know when I'll be getting chapter four up but hopefully it will be soon! I'm finally done with finals!

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, I'm so glad you liked it!

Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd


	4. Chapter Four: Never

**Disclaimer: **Sorry to say that I don't own Pushing Daisies…how cool would that be?

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Four: Never **

Olive Snook often imagined what it would be like if the Pie Make were in love with her. Would he propose to her after being in a relationship for a short time or a long time? Would they get married in the summer or the winter? Would they move The Pie Hole out into the country were they would live with Digby and their two children? Or would they simply stay in the city, in their cozy little apartment above their restaurant where it would just be the two of them for the rest of their li—

"You shouldn't stare," Jonah whispered in her ear, "It's unbecoming."

Olive jumped and dropped the plate she had been holding, wincing as the ceramic shattered into smaller pieces. Ned, Chuck, and Emerson looked to the source of the noise from the booth they were sitting in.

"Olive…" Ned sighed.

"Sorry," she flushed quickly, ducking behind the counter to hide and pick up the broken pieces.

"Allow me to help," Jonah offered, dropping down next to her.

"I've got it, thanks," Olive whispered harshly, roughly grabbing the pieces from his hand that he had picked up.

"Slow down or you're going to cut yourself."

"I'm fine," Olive whispered again, picking up a rather ragged piece of plate. She tried to hide the wince as she felt the ceramic pierce her skin.

Jonah chuckled. "Sure," he supplied, grabbing her hand before she could protest and examining the small cut on her palm. "Because you didn't end up scratching yourself."

Olive frowned. Jonah Burke had been working at The Pie Hole for a week and Olive became more aggravated with him as each day passed. He never left her alone, always there whenever she turned around, smirking in a way that only seemed to be reserved for her. Quite frankly, she loathed him.

"I loathe you," she said, standing quickly, walking into the kitchen to toss the ruined plate, with Jonah following her.

He chuckled as he rummaged through the closet for a band-aid. "No you don't," he said, handing her the small item. "You find me highly amusing and dangerously charming."

Olive snatched the band-aid and quickly put in her cut. "If by _highly amusing and dangerously charming_," she said, lowering her voice mockingly, "you mean I want to lead you up to the roof and push you off and hope you get hit by a car once you hit the ground, then yes I would say I do find you 'highly amusing and dangerously charming'."

Jonah laughed, "You're words," he said, "How they wound me."

"Good," Olive replied, throwing the band-aid wrapper at his chest and storming from the kitchen.

* * *

"Well, it's not like you've never solved a case without using Ned's ability before. You've done it hundreds of times. So I don't see what the big deal is," Chuck spoke, looking at Emerson who sat across from her and Ned.

"Yes," Emerson replied, "But that was because I didn't have Ned at the time. But right now he is fully able to use his ability, and it's still gotten us no where because _someone_ decided to talk to much and waste our minute."

"As much as I appreciate you too talking about me, can you not do it in the way were you pretend that I'm not here?" Ned asked from his spot besides Chuck.

"All I'm sayin' is that if dead girl hadn't blabbed on for fifty-seven seconds, we would have our killer by now."

"You know, I really don't appreciate the term _dead girl_," Chuck spoke, "Can't you just call me by my name?"

"Well, I would call you Dead Girl Who Was Dead But Is Alive Again Even Though She Really Shouldn't Be," Emerson said dryly, waving Olive down from the kitchen to refill his coffee mug. "But that's just too long for me, so it's 'dead girl'."

"Well--," Chuck began, Emerson rose his brow.

"Thinks he's so funny…" Olive mumbled as she came over, interrupting their conversation. "Thinks he can just walk around like he owns the place," she continued as she began to refilled Emerson's cup. "Charming…ha…amusing…pfft…thinks he's so smart…"

"Um…Olive," Ned said cautiously, eyeing the level of coffee that was slowly rising in Emerson's cup.

"I'll show him smart…"

"Olive," Chuck began, pulling on Olive's dress seam to get her attention.

"Be careful before you cut yourself…ha ha, looks like you did," Olive bit, shaking her head from side to side."

"Olive," Emerson warned as the coffee reached the top of the mug."

"Thinks he just knows me doesn't he? Well I'll—,"

"OLIVE!" Ned, Chuck, and Emerson yelled as the coffee began overflowing onto the table.

"Wha--? OH!" She jumped, realizing what she had done. "Sorry," she said bashfully as Ned looked at her in disbelief as Chuck grabbed napkins and she and Emerson tried to stop the liquid before it pooled into their laps. "I'll just go get a napkin."

"The hell's gotten into her," Emerson mumbled. Ned shrugged as Chuck smiled surreptitiously.

"Sorry, I got it…" Olive said again, as she walked back over, rag in hand. She sighed, "He makes me get all worked up and does this…" Olive continued to rant under her breath.

Emerson rolled his eyes as he grabbed some fresh napkins to wipe his hands on. "Look, can we get back to the problem at hand," he whispered loudly, hoping Olive was too lost in her chore to listen. "Cosmo Karphin is still dead, and we've got no leads."

Olive's head snapped up, Emerson's voice quickly pulling her from her reverie, "Cosmo Karphin is dead?" her face draining of its color.

Chuck nodded, worry sweeping her features at the look on Olive's face. "Yes, he was found last night."

"Lord, I can't believe it," Olive whispered sitting down next to Emerson, forcing the man to move over in the booth. He did so begrudgingly. Olive shook her head. "How did it happen?"

"Car crash."

"Poison."

Ned and Chuck answered at the same time.

"Car crash and poison?" Olive questioned, looking skeptical.

"Well, he was found after his car crashed into a tree," Chuck explained. "The police were going to classify it as an accident when—," Emerson and Ned both shot Chuck a warning look. "When the _examiner_ found traces of poison in his body."

Olive shook her head in disbelief. "Poisoned. I can't believe it…He was the last person on earth to deserve that…" Tears began to form in her eyes as she processed what she had just learned.

"Yes, its quite sad, no if you'll excuse us we have work to do," Emerson said moving over and pushing Olive out of the booth, forcing her to stand. Olive glared at Emerson as she straightened her dress.

"Olive, did you…know him?" Ned asked.

Olive looked to the Pie Maker. "Sure did."

Before he was met with his premature death one Cosmo Karphin had been Olive's Snook coach. From the very beginning, when Olive chose to be a horse jockey, through her untimely win of the Jock Off 2000 and right up until the death of her beloved horse, Pi, Cosmo had been at Olive's side: training, coaching, and cheering. That is, until the day of Pi's death when Olive decided it was time to hang her girth for good, leaving Cosmo without his star pupil.

"He was the kindest man I ever knew," Olive said sadly, hanging her head and shaking it, pushing her tears at bay. "You know, if it were me, the first person I would question would be his wife."

Emerson's ears perked. "You have reason to believe his wife would poison him."

"Well sure!" Olive said quickly, moving back to the booth, making Emerson move once again. "She's loco," she finished, waving her hand in a circle next to her head.

"Loco?" Ned asked.

"Yeah, you know, weird, zany, mad, insane…crazy." She said, as if she had the biggest gossip to hit the town, "Once, right before the Jock Off 2000 Cosmo and I had to stay late so I could get some extra training in. Dorothy found out and thought he and I were having an affair!"

"Were you having an affair?" Emerson interrupted, dryly.

Olive gasped. "No!" she said, elbowing Emerson in the arm. "Now, anyways, she came down to the track with the butcher knife from her kitchen."

"A butcher knife?" Chuck asked, in shock.

Nodding vigorously, Olive continued her story: "I tell you if it hadn't been for the fact that I was still atop Pi and could make a quick get away I would have been--," she slid her hand across her throat indicating what would have happened.

Ned, Chuck, and Emerson shuddered.

"She had jealousy and possession issues," Olive added as and after thought. "But Cosmo loved her. He was loyal through and through."

"Was that the first time she had tried to," Ned paused. "Do something like that?"

"No, Cosmo explained to me, after apologizing a million times, that that was the fifth time something like that had happened. And who knows how many times since," she clarified, shaking her head. "He told me that the first time it happened--,"

"Alright, your little story is good enough for me, lets go," Emerson said, pushing until he and Olive were standing. Ned and Chuck quickly followed suit. "Now, Olive, where does she live?"

"Well…I never knew the exact address," Emerson sighed. "But I could take you there."

"Oh no," Emerson said quickly, "I let you help once before and I'm not doing it again."

Olive's shoulders sagged and she hung her head as rejection once again washed through her body.

"I don't know Emerson, having Olive around this time would help. She does know Mrs. Kariph," Chuck said, walking over to the petite woman and placing a hand on her shoulder.

Emerson Codd cursed under his breath, knowing that Chuck was right. It would make more sense to show up on the steps of the Kariph home with Olive in tow, than without.

"But," Ned spoke, taking a stand beside Emerson, facing the two women. "Someone's got to stay here with Jonah." The Pie Maker still had his reserves about the new employee, even though the man was proving to be helpful.

"I can stay behind," Chuck offered.

"But Chuck--," Ned started.

"It's alright, Ned, besides; I think Emerson is still mad at me for what I did earlier."

"You got that right," Emerson muttered.

"The three of you go; I'll keep an eye on Jonah."

"While you're at it, shove him in the freezer and lock the door for me," Olive said, darkly earning her a bewildered stare from her three companions. "What?"

Emerson rolled his eyes and sighed, "Fine, come on," he said to Ned.

"You mean I get to play?" Olive asked hopefully.

"Yes, Olive," Emerson replied, grabbing the woman by the arm and leading her to the door. "You get to play."

* * *

"Um, Olive," Ned said as he, Emerson, and Olive approached the front door of the Kariph home.

"Yes?" Olive asked, turning her back to the door and looking at the two men before her.

"Is Mrs. Kariph loco enough to use her butcher knife on us, if she were to find out what we're doing here?"

"Probably," Olive replied, simply, turning to the door and knocking.

"Great."

Emerson chuckled. "Scared?"

"No," Ned replied, defiantly.

After a short pause there was a clicking of a lock and the door opened slightly, a latch preventing it from opening all the way. An eye looked at them, the person hiding the rest of their body. "Can I help you?" a voice asked from behind the door.

"Hello, Mrs. Kariph, it's me--," the door closed on Olive, stopping her mid-sentence.

"That went well," Emerson said.

"She seemed…lovely," Ned added.

"Olive Snook!" Mrs. Dorothy Kariph said as she threw the door open, fully revealing herself to her visitors. "It's so lovely to see you again," she said, stepping forward, taking hold of Olive's hands and placing a small kiss on each other her cheeks.

"You too, Mrs. Kariph," Olive replied kindly, quickly pulling her hands from to the other woman's. "I heard about Cosmo's death and I just had to come pay my respects."

Mrs. Kariph smiled kindly. "Of course you did, dear," she said, stepping away from Olive and straightening the black dress she wore. She turned her attention to the two men standing behind the petite woman. "And you are?"

"Oh how silly of me," Olive spoke before the Pie Maker or Emerson could. "This is Emerson Codd. He was my biggest fan when I raced, and when he heard about Cosmo…well he just had to come along. Isn't that right Emerson?" Olive asked, turning her back to Mrs. Kariph and smiling cheekily at Emerson.

"Yes," Emerson said, giving Olive a sardonic smile, before turning to the older woman. "I had to come pay my respects as well. He was such a great…uh, great man."

Ned stifled a laugh.

"And you are?" Mrs. Kariph said, turning her full attention to the Pie Maker.

Ned opened his mouth, "Well I—I--,"

"This is Ned," Emerson spoke, gesturing to the other man. "He's Olive's fiancée."

Ned turned to Emerson, mouth agape, as Olive turned back to Mrs. Kariph; her smile widening.

* * *

"Why…whywouldyou—whywouldyou…why," Ned spoke quickly from the side of his mouth, as he sat between Emerson and Olive on Mrs. Kariph's couch ten minutes later. His arm placed stiffly on the back of the couch behind Olive, the blonde pressed tightly to his side.

"If she's going to make me to be some crazy-ass horse loving freak, then I'm taking you down with me."

"But of all the things you could have done."

"Here we are," Mrs. Kariph said, walking into the room, "Nothing like a good cup of tea, I always say." She placed the tray she had been holding on the coffee table in front of the couch and sat down in a chair across from her visitors. "You know I must say, Olive," she continued on, handing a cup of tea to everyone. "That I never thought I would see you again in _your _life time."

Olive, Ned, and Emerson all say up straighter on the couch as Ned instinctively pulled Olive closer to him. Olive smiled at him then turned her attention to the other woman. "Yes, Mrs. Kariph, I—uh—quite agree."

Mrs. Kariph smiled and took a sip of tea. "Oh dear me, looks like I've forgotten the sugar. I'll just go get it," she said as she began to stand.

"Oh that's alright, Mrs. Kariph, I can get it," Olive said, leaning forward and placing her cup of the table.

"Thank you, Olive, dear. I forgot how sweet you were. I'm sure you remember where the kitchen is?"

Olive nodded as she placed her hand on Ned's knee to push herself off the couch, squeezing gently. Ned swallowed uncomfortably. "Yes, I do."

"You would," Mrs. Kariph sang-song into her cup as Olive walked around her to the door way.

"Talk to her," Olive mouthed to Emerson and Ned before disappearing into the hall.

* * *

"If I were sugar in an old hag's kitchen, where would I be?" Olive asked, herself, arms akimbo as she studied the different cabinets in the room. "If I were sugar in an old hag's kitchen, where would I be?"

Sighing, defeated, Olive walked up to the first cabinet. She placed her left hand on the counter, pushed and stood on her tip-toes, trying to reach the handle, cursing herself for doing this the one day she hadn't worn heals. With the tips of her fingers she managed to grab a hold of the handle and pull the cabinet open.

"Ha," she said triumphantly observing the contents of the cabinet. She smiled when she caught sight of a small container with what could only be sugar sitting on the third shelf, it's label turned hidden from view.

Bracing both hands on the counter-top she jumped, pushing herself up and quickly grabbing at the container. He fingers brushed the plastic, putting it further out of reach. "Crap," she muttered under her breath, bracing herself again. Olive jumped three more times until she was able to grasp the container completely and pull it down. "Double ha," she stated triumphantly, turning and leaning against the counter, when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

Sitting nicely against the wall across the room was a small step-ladder, waiting patiently to be used. "Of course," she said, darkly turning her back to the step-ladder as if it had insulted her.

Turning her attention back to her prize from the cabinet, Olive turned the container until she could read the label. _Life-Be-Gone: The One Step Instant Fix for a Husband Who Just Won't Quit, _she read.

"Oh Lord," Olive spoke, her eyes widening. "Definitely not sugar."

* * *

While Olive came across her lucky, or unlucky, discovery; Ned and Emerson continued to talk to Mrs. Kariph in the parlor.

"I must say, Ned," the woman spoke, "I noticed Olive didn't have an engagement ring on her finger."

Ned coughed nervously, his sip of tea going down wrong. "Well, I—uh…wanted to save up, you know, get her a really nice ring."

Mrs. Kariph smiled nicely. "One she deserves, such a good boy," she said, reaching forward and patting Ned's cheek.

From his spot next to him, Ned could hear Emerson chuckle. "Heh," the Pie Maker coughed, averting his eyes from Mrs. Kariph. "Thank you." Movement in the entry way to the parlor caught Ned's eye. Olive stood, jumping up and down and waving her arms, mouthing his name, trying to get his attention.

When Olive was certain she had Ned was looking at her, she quickly moved her head back a couple times, indicating that he needed to come to the kitchen.

"Um, Mrs. Kariph?" Ned asked, standing, "May I use the restroom."

"Of course, dear boy, just through the hall, two doors on the left," she said, pointing behind her.

"Thank you," Ned said again, walking quickly from the room.

"What?" he whispered, to Olive when she pulled him down the hall and out of hearing range.

Olive held up the container of poison, pointing to the label.

Ned's eyes widened as he spoke. "That's not sugar."

"Definitely not sugar."

* * *

The facts were these:

Dorothy Kariph, fifty-eight years, five months, two weeks, and 3 days, finally snapped. After years of being consumed with possession and jealousy, she was once again under the impression that her husband was committing adultery. Finding no evidence of another woman, who she would have gladly killed instead, Mrs. Kariph killed her husband. Scooping _Life-Be-Gone _into the trusty water bottle that he carried with him everywhere. She waited to give the bottle to him until he left, knowing that once the poison was in affect, Cosmo's car would crash a no one would be any wiser.

A good plan, had it not been for Emerson Codd's love for money, the Pie Maker's remarkable gift to bring the dead back to life, Charlotte Charles' anxious rambling to give the dead a chance at redemption, and Olive Snook's chance connection to the victim.

* * *

"So does this mean that I get to help from now on?" Olive asked, anxiously as she, Ned, and Emerson returned to The Pie Hole, that night.

"No," Emerson said, as Olive and Ned stepped out of his car.

"Oh," Olive sighed, looking to Ned as her last hope. The Pie Maker could only offer her a sad smile.

"I'm going home, see you tomorrow," Emerson said, pulling away from the curve and driving away.

Olive and Ned stood awkwardly in front of the restaurant. Ned coughed.

"Look, Olive," Ned spoke, awkwardly, "Despite what Emerson says, thanks for your help today. We, ah, really couldn't have done it without you," he said, smiling his shy smile and digging his hands into his pockets.

Olive smiled. "Sure, thing. I'm glad I could help. And, sorry about the…touching…" she said quietly, pointing to Ned's leg. "But I figured if we had to pretend…"

"Yes, right," Ned spoke. "It's okay, Emerson's fault anyways."

Olive felt her heart sink at the acquisition she heard in the Pie Maker's voice. Was the idea of loving her so wrong to Ned that he couldn't even pretend?

"Hey, you two," Chuck suddenly said as she walked out of The Pie Hole, pulling on her coat. "How was the convention?" she asked, as Jonah stepped into the night as well, locking the door to the restaurant.

"Great," Ned said, smiling at Chuck. Olive's heart sunk further at the smile Ned gave the brunette woman. A smile she had never seen given to her.

"You lot sure do go to a lot of conventions," Jonah said, handing the key to Chuck.

"Well, we're a convention kind of people," Ned quickly explained.

"That's right," Chuck added. "You never what you might find at them." She looked to Ned, "You ready?"

Ned nodded. "Yeah."

"Olive, are you coming?" Chuck said as she and Ned began to walk towards the apartment complex.

Olive looked to the other woman. "I'll be up in a minute," she said, sadly.

Chuck smiled. "Okay, goodnight Jonah, goodnight Olive."

Ned nodded to the other two.

"Goodnight," Jonah said, with a wave.

"Night," Olive whispered, her voice barely audible.

Olive Snook realized, as she watched Ned and Chuck disappear from view, that she would never know what it would be like if the Pie Maker loved her, fantasy or not; because, it appeared, he never would.

"Ah, so it's the boss…" Jonah said, snapping Olive from her thoughts like he did so many times before.

"What is?" she asked, pulling her coat tighter around her small body, thinking it would protect her from Jonah.

"That someone you want to make you happy."

Olive scowled. "No he's not," she said with a bite.

"Oh please, I've watched you stare at him for a week now, and the look you just gave him right now is proof enough."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do."

"Do me a favor and meet me on the roof in about an hour," Olive hissed.

Jonah laughed, "Finally going to push me off?"

"Yes."

"Why an hour, why don't we go now?"

"Because, an hour gives me enough time to make sure there will be a semi ready to run you over the minute you hit the street."

"I didn't say it before but that's really gruesome."

"Good, now if you'll excuse me," Olive said, turning and walking towards the stairs that led to her apartment. Jonah quickly blocked her way.

"Why won't you just admit it?" he asked, bemused and curious.

"Because there's nothing to admit," she said, staring at him coldly, willing him to move with her mind.

"Oh?...Ah…I see now…"

"What?"

Jonah tapped his nose and Olive was tempted to punch it. "The woes of unrequited love."

"What?" Olive asked, her blood running cold.

"Could it be that you don't want to admit it because he doesn't love you back."

Olive froze, looking at the ground. Was she really that obvious? Was she really so far in over her head that the whole world was open to the workings of her heart?

"Ah, I think we have a winner."

"Why," she said, her voice low, "Do you always have to stick your nose in my business?" she asked, looking at Jonah, her eyes as cold as the ice that hung from the buildings around them.

For once, Jonah Burke could not think of a response to say. He was shocked to see that tears were actually brimming in Olive Snook's blue eyes.

"Well?" the woman asked, poking her finger into his chest.

"Olive, I--," he began, reaching out a placing a hand on her elbow.

"No, Jonah," she said, shaking her arm away from him, "Do use both a favor and just _leave me alone!_"

Olive didn't wait for a reply, brushing pass Jonah quickly, making sure to hit his shoulder as she did so.

Jonah Burke stood in the falling snow, shocked, certain that he had just unleashed the wrath of Olive Snook unto himself.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there ya go! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I won't be updating again for a few days. I have to work tomorrow and then I'll be busy all day Sunday…but I'll get the next chapter up as soon as possible!

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. Your kind words mean so much! Thank you!

Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd


	5. Chapter Five: Pie Claus

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pushing Daisies…

**Author's Note: **Well it seems that I just can't get enough writing out of my system…cause it's only been an hour since I've posted chapter four and I'm ready to start this one…so off we go!

* * *

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Five: Pie Claus**

The night of December nineteenth was a special night for The Pie Hole. When the day was over and the customers gone, Pie Clause came and decorated the quaint shop to spread the joy of holiday spirit. Or so had been told to the Pie Maker by Olive Snook the first December twentieth she had worked there, when he had walked into the restaurant to see a Christmas tree, lights, and tinsel covering every inch of the place.

The Pie Maker could still distinctly recall the smile on Olive's face as she turned to face him that morning. It had been brighter than he had ever seen it before, wiping away his initial shock at the decorations.

_Ned gaped as he walked to the counter, "Wha-what is all this?"_

_Olive smiled. "Tis the season!" she said, holding her arms out and spinning slightly. _

_"Olive did—did you do all this?" The Pie Maker could not get over his shock._

_"Me?" Olive asked incredulously. "Oh no, Ned. Pie Claus did."_

_"Pie Claus?"_

_Olive nodded. "Oh yes, Pie Claus. He comes every December nineteenth to make sure that 'Mom and Pop Pie Shops' like yours don't get looked over for holiday spirit."_

_"So would that make today Pie Claus Day?"_

_Olive laughed loudly, but nodded. "And last night was Pie Claus Eve. Remember," she warned, tossing her hair flirtatiously, "You had better be good or Pie Claus will skip you by."_

_Ned smiled, again _(at that time very unaware of Olive Snook's shameless flirting), _"I'll mark it on my calendar."_

The Pie Maker fully expected Olive Snook to forget about their conversation of Pie Claus the following year. But on the morning of December twentieth, when he opened the doors of The Pie Hole, the decorations had once again appeared. And so they had year after year, spreading holiday warmth through the Pie Maker, the Waitress, and all their customers.

Though the Pie Maker would admit it to no one, he looked forward to December nineteenth and twentieth every year. It was all ridiculous, he reasoned, but it was a silly tradition that Olive Snook had brought to The Pie Hole that the Pie Maker liked. Out loud, the two never spoke of the name they gave the two days; only using shared smiles to express their little joke.

There are five facts that accompany the simple holiday that only The Pie Hole celebrates and the facts are these:

One, the pies are always better. Two, the customers are never bitter. Three, Emerson Cod is always in a bad mood. Four, the Pie Maker secretly smiles. And Five, Olive Snook never—ever—forgets Pie Claus Day.

And so it came as quite a shock the morning of December twentieth, in the present time, when the Pie Maker walked into his restaurant to find _no_ tree, _no_ garland, _no_ lights, and_ no_ tinsel.

"Wha--? Olive?!" he yelled, quickly running into the kitchen in search of the smaller woman. "Chuck have you seen Olive?" he asked, sliding on the tiled floor.

Chuck smiled, amused, "Good morning to you too," she said, wiping the corners of her mouth free of toast crumbs. "And no, I haven't seen her. I don't think she has come down yet. Why?"

The Pie Maker opened and closed his mouth as if to respond, but unable to formulate the proper words.

A small thudding noise interrupted the conversation in the kitchen as someone tried to open the door. There was a groan when the barrier didn't open on the first try and the person had to try again; making it quite obvious that they were using their whole body for force. After a minute Olive made her way into the kitchen, squeezing through a barely open door. "Stupid heavy door…"she mumbled under her breath, paying no attention to the two other occupants of the room.

"Good morning, Olive," Chuck greeted brightly.

"Is it?" Olive asked, shrugging off her coat and hanging it up.

"Are you alright?" Chuck asked, concerned.

Olive put up her hand, waving off the issue. The blonde sat down at the counter and rubbed her temples, hiding her face in her hands. "Just one of those days, you know?"

Olive Snook did not tell the truth. She did not tell Chuck that for the past two days she had had little sleep. Or that this was due to the fact that every time she closed her eyes Jonah Burke's taunting face was staring at her, his characteristic smirk in place. She, also, did not tell Chuck that the reason Jonah Burke's face appeared when she closed her eyes was because of his blatant observations regarding her, Ned, and Chuck.

"Bu—but it can't be 'just one of those days'," Ned suddenly spoke, waking from his shocked stupor. "It's December twentieth."

Olive lifted her head, "Gee Olive, why are you having just one of those days?" she asked, lowering her voice to mock Ned. "Oh, don't worry about it Ned, it's nothing you need to concern yourself with. But Olive, you seem really upset. No really, Ned, I'm just fine, maybe a little tired, but perfectly fine. Okay, that's good to know, Olive, because I'm just so concerned," she finished, turning in her seat to give Ned a look.

From her place at the counter, Charlotte Charles sighed and shook her head slightly; looking worriedly at Olive.

Ned smiled bashfully and gave a laugh of discomfort. "Right…sorry."

Olive rolled her eyes and turned away from the Pie Maker.

There was silence as Ned pulled at the collar of his shirt, Olive went back to rubbing her temples, and Chuck looked uncomfortably at her companions.

"What's so special about December twentieth?" Chuck finally asked, trying to break the awkward tension.

"It's a—it's a—," Ned rambled, looking at the back of Olive's head for help.

"Pie Claus Day," Olive said, quietly and bitterly, not liking that she had to let Chuck in on the small joke she shared with the Pie Maker.

"Pie Claus Day?" Chuck asked, suppressing a laugh, looking at Ned. If the Pie Maker was a blushing type of person, he would have done so. "Who's Pie Claus?"

Olive pointed to Ned, indicating that he should explain, while she got up and walked to the cupboards.

Ned looked decidedly more uncomfortable. "Pie Claus comes every year on the night of December nineteenth and decorates The Pie Hole to spread the holiday cheer," he said, quickly, trying to relay the words Olive had once spoken to him.

Chuck's smile widened. "Is Pie Claus the six-foot, brown haired owner of The Pie Hole?"

Ned smiled slightly and sat down, "More like the five-foot, blonde haired waitress of The Pie Hole," he said, pointing to Olive who was having trouble getting a mug down from the cupboards.

"No thanks for the help. I got it," she said sardonically as her fingers brushed the glass, sending it to the ground. She caught it before it could break.

"So it's a big deal that Pie Claus didn't come this year?" Chuck asked, once Olive walked back to where they were sitting.

"I never miss a year," she said, "Sorry," she finished, her attention focused only on Ned.

The Pie Maker shrugged. "That's alright." He lied. Even in the smallest of ways, the Pie Maker did not handle change well. "I don't handle change well."

Chuck chuckled. "Obviously."

Olive smiled slightly as Ned gaped. "I promise I'll put everything up tonight," she said, walking from the kitchen. "But right now I'm going to fix myself a large espresso," she finished, waving her empty mug, that was far too big to for the usual espresso, in the air.

"Are you sure you're alright, Olive?" Chuck asked, stopping the other woman from leaving.

Olive shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"Why don't you take the day off," the Pie Maker offered shyly, trying to make up for his lack of concern earlier.

Despite herself Olive smiled. "No, I already had yesterday off. I'll be fine; nothing that an overly large dose of strong coffee won't fix."

"Good morning, everybody," Jonah said as he walked into the room.

"Good morning Jonah," Chuck and Ned replied at the same time.

Olive's face darkened and she quickly made way to leave.

"Hi Olive," Jonah added, looking directly at her.

"Burke," she replied, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Can I talk to you?" he offered, grabbing hold of Olive's elbow to stop her.

"No," she answered bitterly. She pulled her arm from his grasp, the sharp movement sending her into the wall. Olive recovered quickly, and straightened her shoulders; turning on her heel, she marched from the room.

* * *

"Do you have any intentions concerning Olive? If so what are those intentions and what do you intend to do about them?"

Jonah laughed, "What?" he asked, drying dishes.

Chuck stopped her task of cutting strawberries and walked over to the man. "I've been watching you two since you started working here. You could cut the tension with a knife. Well," she paused. "You could cut the tension coming from you with a knife. Olive's tension I'm not so sure about."

"Thank you Chuck, your go-out-and-get-her pep-talk has done the trick," Jonah responded dryly.

"Well, I'm just saying, the tension radiating off of you screams romance," Chuck defended. "While Olive's…"

"Screams a contented hate?" Jonah asked, throwing down his towel and crossing his arms.

Chuck laughed. "Something along those lines."

"Or exactly along those lines. I may have said a couple of things to upset her the other night."

"What things?"

Jonah didn't answer but simply shot a quick glance to the Pie Maker, who was talking with Emerson Cod.

"Oh," Chuck replied, her face flushing as she shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, that's a touchy subject when it comes to Olive."

"So I've learned," Jonah replied, "The hard way. As much as I would like to make amends with her for the other night, I don't think it will work. I haven't exactly been on top of her favorite persons list since she met me."

"All the more reason to win her over!"

"I don't know, Chuck."

"If I know Olive, and I do, she'll forgive you. You just have to show her that you are really, truly sorry."

"How?"

Chuck shrugged and went back to her strawberries. "A simple apology and a nice gesture are always a start."

* * *

Had Olive Snook been in her right state of mind that morning she would have not allowed herself to drink a mug full of espresso…and then another. But she hadn't been in her right state of mind that morning and she had drunk two large mugs of espresso; resulting in her current state of jitters and shaking.

Olive seemed to bounce as she walked and had to use two hands to poor customers their coffees. Had she not been in such a blatantly bad mood that morning everyone would have been none-the-wiser about her actual mood. The overdose of caffeine seemed to be doing the trick of burying her despair, if only for a short few hours until her high would wear off and her sugar crash would begin. Olive would deal with that later. At the moment, she gladly focused on being happy; even if it was under false pretenses.

"Here you are," Jonah said, approaching shyly and placing a piece of pie before Olive as she bounced behind the counter, refilling sugar dispensers.

"What's that?" she asked, rocking back and forth on her heels, trying to make her voice as bitter as she could.

Jonah concentrated all his reserve on suppressing a smile. "A piece of pie."

Olive rolled her eyes. "I see that, but why are you giving it to me?"

"Because I upset you and I'm trying to make up for it." Jonah offered. "And nothing works better than a slice of happiness from The Pie Hole." He smirked.

Olive crossed her arms and gave Jonah a smirk of her own. "Hun, I invented that line. Get back to me when you've got one of your own," she said, picking up the slice of pie. She took a bite, giving Jonah a focused look, before turning and bouncing away.

* * *

"You know what I think," Chuck said with a smile as she and the Pie Maker were in the kitchen making pies.

"What?"

"That you secretly love Pie Claus and Pie Claus Day."

Ned froze for a brief moment before recovering. "Wh—Why would you say that?"

"Your slightly panicked outburst this morning? The look of utter fear?"

"Heh..I told you, I don't like change."

"Liking change or not has nothing to do with it. I think you're a closet Pie Claus-aholic."

"Pie Claus-aholic?"

Chuck nodded. "If you don't get Pie Claus Day you go through withdrawals; starting with a bought of hives and sudden convulsions, followed shortly by hyperventilation and the tendency to faint."

"Faint? Why can't you use a more masculine-friendly term? Like pass out or suddenly-losing-consciousness-for-a-short-period-of-time?"

"Faint, pass out, suddenly-losing-consciousness-for-a-short-period-of-time or not, I still think you're a Pie Claus-aholic."

"Right…"

"No need to feel embarrassed about it," Chuck said, stopping her task of rolling dough and looking at the Pie Maker. "It's cute in its own dorky way."

"Because that makes it so much better," Ned said with a smile.

"What makes Pie Claus Day so special anyways?" Chuck asked with a brow raise and a tilt of the head.

The Pie Maker smiled, shyly. "I'll show you tomorrow."

Chuck smiled.

* * *

Olive was regretting her two mugs of espresso. The day wore on and her sugar high faded, quickly sending her into a slump. She was more tired than she had been before and her head began to throb with gusto. She began to answer people with grunts and groans, unable to form proper responses.

"Olive, are you sure you want to do this tonight?" Chuck asked, pulling on her coat after closing.

Olive nodded, instantly regretting the movement.

"Do what?" Jonah asked, taking off his apron and pulling out his own coat.

"Play the role of Pie Claus," Chuck responded, much to the dismay of Ned and Olive.

"Pie Claus?"

"Must you call it that?" Olive asked wearily.

"But that's what you call it," Chuck responded, confused as she looked to Ned.

"No, that's what Ned and I call it," Olive spoke before she could stop herself. An awkward silence filled the air. "Sorry," she said after a moment, her shoulders sagging.

"Who's Pie Claus?" Jonah asked after a while, trying to break the silence.

"I decorate this place every year at Christmas time," Olive finally answered, regretting she had to let yet another person in on something she considered a special bond between herself and the Pie Maker.

"Maybe I can stay and help you Olive," Chuck offered. "You really don't look so good."

Olive forced herself to smile. "I'm fine. Plus, I can't let you in my secret decorating skills. It will ruin the magic," she said, trying to bring back the light-hearted atmosphere that had existed before she opened her mouth. It worked. "Now shoo before I make you leave with my brute strength."

Chuck laughed and Ned smiled shyly. "Okay then, goodnight Olive. Goodnight Jonah," Chuck said, as she walked out the door.

"Goodnight," Ned said with a nod, following Chuck into the night.

Olive turned to Jonah who had yet to leave. "When I said, 'shoo' I meant you too," she said, her voice carrying as much contempt that her weary body would allow.

"No, I think I'll stay and help."

Olive's eyes widened. "No, I think I made it clear I don't want help," she said, walking over to the closet and pulling out a rickety old ladder. "So you can just leave."

"No, I don't think I will."

Olive turned and scowled. "I don't want your help, Burke," she said, annoyed.

"But I want to give it to you."

"Well I don't accept. Quite frankly, I'd accept help from the gum off the bottom of my shoe before you at this exact moment."

"Exactly, so I need to redeem myself," he said, walking over and taking the ladder from Olive's hands. "Plus, this ladder is too old for you to use without someone to make sure you don't fall."

"I've been using this ladder for as long as I've worked here, just like I've done this by myself. So if you'll excuse me. I believe you know where the door is. Now leave." Olive took the ladder back

"You're right. I do know where it is," Jonah said, standing in front of Olive and grabbing the ladder. Olive kept her grip on it, both of them pulling. "But I'm not leaving."

"Yes," Olive said through gritted teeth and a pull on the ladder. "You are."  
"No," Jonah replied with a tug of his own. "I'm not."

"I thought I made it clear the other night that I don't want you around."

"Oh you made yourself clear; a blind man with a blind seeing-eye dog would be able to see how much you hate me."

"Well good, we agree on that. So leave."

Jonah sighed and let go of the ladder. "Look Olive, I know I've been a jerk—But I'm sorry, so please let me make it up to you?"

Olive eyed him wearily. "If I say no, you're not going to leave are you?"

"No, I'm not," Jonah replied with a loud laugh. "I promise you won't even realize I'm here. I'll even make it worth your while by making the Burke Family Special Christmas Hot Cocoa."

Olive sighed dejectedly as her head gave another throb of pain from their bickering. "Fine," she said, "Do what you want, I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"To get the decorations."

* * *

"What's that smell?" Olive asked as she opened the door ten minutes later, dragging in a box that was three times her body size.

Jonah quickly left his task of stirring at the stove to help Olive get the box through the door. "I told you I was making my family's special hot cocoa. You didn't believe me?"

"No, I just didn't think anything you made could smell so good," Olive said, wiping her hands together to rid them of dust.

"Ouch," Jonah said with a chuckle.

Olive smirked. "I agreed to let you stay; I never said I was going to be nice about it."

"Touché," Jonah said returning to stirring. "So what is all that?"

"The decorations to make this place festive."

"Where did you get it from?"

"Oh no," Olive said, shaking her head. "No one knows where I keep these, not even Ned, and I intend to keep it that way."

"I'm guessing your apartment."

"Actually," Olive said, leaning over the pot on the stove and taking a deep whiff. "No."

"Sneaky."

"Always."

"Give me two more minutes then I'll start helping you," Jonah said, retrieving two mugs.

"How about no," Olive said, putting her hands on her hips. "Then I would know you here and you said I wouldn't notice."

"You thought I was just going to sit around and watch while you put up Christmas decorations?"

"Yes."

"Try again, I'm making up for being a pain, remember?"

Olive rolled her eyes. "What ever."

"Is it working?" he called, ladling the liquid into the mugs, as Olive walked into the dining area.

"Hardly," Olive called back, making Jonah chuckle.

* * *

"You don't like me," Jonah stated as he hung lights in the windows and Olive placed ornaments on the Christmas tree."

Olive snorted, "Now why would you think that?"

"Because you scowl when you see me, and give me lovely glares. You know, if laser beams shot from your eyes, I'd be six feet under."

"Well there's your answer."

"Why?"

Olive sighed. "Your talking is a constant reminder that you're here," she sang.

"Right," Jonah said, silence engulfing them. "So why?" he asked again after a moment.

Olive sighed and turned to Jonah, biting her lip. "I think you're answering your own question."

Jonah laughed. "But _why?_"

"Didn't I _just _answer that question?"

"No. So why don't you?"

Olive opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out; she froze. "Well…I…" she trailed off, grabbing her mug of cocoa and taking a large drink. She made a face realizing her hot drink was hot no longer.

"Don't like it?" Jonah asked, bemused.

"It's cold," Olive replied, thankful for the change of subject.

"Well that's what you get for not drinking it right away, genius," he said with a laugh.

"Insulting me; what a good way to get into my good books."

Jonah smirked. "I'll go make some more."

* * *

Some time later, Olive Snook balanced atop the rickety old ladder, hanging up railings that a train track would rest on. Carefully, so as not to fall, Olive looked over her shoulder to where Jonah stood near the foot of the ladder, hanging garland.

_Why don't you like me?_ His words kept echoing in her mind; over and over like a broken record.

Over the past two days, after Jonah had confronted her outside of The Pie Hole, Olive could only think of how much she disliked the man. About how ever since she had met him she hadn't been able to stand him. And yet, as Olive thought, she wasn't sure she could come up with an exact reason for why she did so.

Sure he was annoying; always prying into her business. Always breathing down her neck and asking questions. He had been since the moment she met him. But, Olive wondered, was it really enough to make her hate him so? Now, as she thought, she realized that she had never given him a chance to be anything other than the man she had created in her mind.

"Can I help you?" Jonah asked when he realized Olive was looking at him. He was smirking, clearly amused.

Olive blushed and turned quickly, making the ladder rock. She clutched the top, trying to brace herself for a fall when she felt a warm hand on her lower back and saw another grab the ladder.

"You alright?" Jonah asked quietly.

Olive nodded and took in a deep breath. "Yeah," she exhaled. "Perfect."

* * *

"More cocoa?" Jonah asked, bringing two more mugs from the kitchen. Olive nodded, taking a mug from his hand. Jonah laughed. "I take it you like it?"

Olive smiled over the steamy mug. "As much as I hate to say it, it's the best cup of cocoa I've ever had."

Jonah smirked. "Good," he said, sitting down next to her at the counter, "I must say Olive," he paused, mouth open. "What is your last name?"

"Snook," Olive replied, without even thinking, after taking a drink.

"Well, Olive _Snook_ I must say we did an extraordinary job," Jonah finished, taking in the sight of their completed work.

And they had.

A train track ran around the top of the room, smoke billowing from the small engine as it worked its way in a circle. Wreaths hung in every window by each booth, lights circling the glass. Silvery banners ran the length of the counter and the backs of the booth benches. A red bow hung from each table. Fluffy, fake snow sat at the bottom of each window and across the counter. Icicle lights hung from the ceiling, creating a moody glow. In the far right corner stood a Christmas tree, decorated with lights and ornaments; empty, wrapped boxes sitting beneath it. Two stockings hung from the window way to the kitchen, one for Olive and one for Ned. The ensemble was finished by a single piece of mistletoe hanging above the front door…and back door…and in the kitchen doorway.

"I don't understand how you were ever able to do all of this by yourself, in one night."

Olive laughed. "It's all part of the magic."

"Well, it's incredible."

"Thanks," she said, "Though we're not done yet. I'll have to add a stocking for Chuck--and you."

"Oh? Why?"

"Well, there's one for every employee. It's not just Ned and I anymore," Olive said, trying to mask to melancholy in her voice.

"What of Emerson?" Jonah asked.

"For starters, he doesn't work here," Olive explained. "Though the first Christmas Ned and I knew him I added one for him. He told me to take it down the minute he saw it. I believe his exact words were 'Take down that damn stocking before I throw it, and you, into the dumpster.'" she said, nostalgically, "We're working on his anger problems."

Jonah laughed before the two fell into a comfortable silence.

Olive took a long drink of cocoa letting the warm liquid run through her body. "Jonah?" she asked quietly, looking into her mug.

"Hm?"

"I—I've been thinking…"

"That's generally a good thing."

Olive hit his arm. "What I mean to say, is that I--I think I owe you an apology."

"What for? I thought I was the one doing the apologizing."

Olive smiled slightly. "While that's true, I—I just haven't given you very much of a chance to be anything other a pain in my rear and I'm sorry I've been treating you the way I have."

Jonah smiled and nudged Olive's arm with his own, making her look at him. "Well, I've given you more than enough reason to consider me a pain in the ass. So call us even?"

Olive smiled, realizing that after knowing Jonah for almost two weeks this was the first time she had ever seen him smile a true, genuine smile. It was nice.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, I just," Olive shook her head. "This is really good cocoa," she covered taking another sip.

"I'm glad you like it, maybe I'll give you the recipe some day."

"I'd like that."

"So, are we even?"

"Wha-? Oh yes. I suppose we are," Olive replied with another smile.

"Good, now that we have that established what do you say we start over--from the beginning/"

Olive nodded. "I'd like that too."

"To a new friendship," Jonah said, holing out his mug in a toast.

Olive tapped her mug to his. "To what a demented one it will be."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there you have it! Hope you liked it, let me know what you think!

Thanks to anyone who has left a review, I really appreciate it!!

Until next time  
The Lonely Goatherd


	6. Chapter Six: The Next Day

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pushing Daisies…woe is me…

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Six: The Next Day**

"Keep your eyes closed."

"But Ned--,"

"Trust me."

"You know, it's hard to walk with your eyes closed when the one leading you can't touch you," Chuck said, waving her arms in front of herself, trying to get her bearings. Ned laughed. "I hope you're a safe distance away," Chuck said with an over exuberant swing of her arm.

"I am, come forward a little bit and you'll walk through the door." Chuck did as she was told. "Now stop walking," Ned said, keeping the main lights off, but turning the Christmas lights on that had been put up the night before.

"Ned…" Chuck whined, crossing her arms.

"Open your eyes," Ned spoke into Chuck's ear. The woman jumped, not realizing that Ned had moved at all.

Slowly Chuck did as she was told. "Oh my…"

The Pie Maker smiled as he watched Charlotte Charles take in The Pie Hole the next morning. "I told you you'd like it."

"Like it?!" Chuck exclaimed turning in a circle, taking in her entire surroundings. "I love it. It's—It's like a winter wonderland. Except, without the snow…and the cold."

Ned chuckled as he took off his coat and scarf, walking into the kitchen.

"I can't believe Olive did all this," Chuck said following the Pie Maker.

"Pretty amazing, huh?"

Chuck nodded enthusiastically, shrugging off her coat and taking off the winter hat she wore. "You know what we should do?!" she spoke, clapping her hands together.

"Hm?"

"We should keep the main lights off, just like this…all day."

Ned looked to the dining room where the Christmas lights were creating a mystic glow. "I don't know, don't you think some one will get hurt?"

"Hurt? No, there's enough light to see where you're going."

"By someone, I meant Olive. She is kind of accident prone."

Chuck laughed. "I think she'll be able to manage. So…please?"

Ned shook his head, averting Chuck's eyes, knowing that if he looked into them he would give in. "No," he reiterated, walking to the fridge, pulling out dough and then getting a rolling pin.

Chuck sighed, "Scrooge," she said, with a twinkle in her eye.

Ned smiled, "Maybe on Christmas Eve," he offered, looking up from the dough. Chuck smiled brightly.

"Good morning all," Jonah said, walking into the room.

"Morning Jonah," the Pie Maker and Chuck said at the same time.

"What do you think of our little winter paradise?" He asked, taking off his own coat and hanging it up. "Olive and I did a good job, huh?"

Ned's eyebrows rose. "You helped Olive?" Chuck asked, voicing their confusion.

Jonah laughed, putting on an apron. "Well, yes."

"I can't believe she let you help. She doesn't let anyone help," Ned said quickly.

"Well, I may have forced my help on her…and propositioned her at the same time."

Ned's jaw dropped. "Pr—prop…pr—prop--,"

"Good morning!" Olive said brightly, walking into the kitchen.

Chuck smiled. "Morning Olive," she said, as Jonah nodded, and Ned simply stared with his mouth agape. "You seem decidedly happier this morning."

Olive smiled. "Well, Pie Claus always puts me in a good mood and it's amazing what a decent nights sleep will do."

If it were possible, Ned's jaw dropped further.

"The dining area looks amazing, Olive," Chuck said leaning against the counter. "You and Jonah did an excellent job."

Olive turned to Jonah, "I thought I told you not to tell anyone I let you help," she said indignantly, taking off her coat.

Jonah smirked. "You thought I was really going to let you take all the credit?"

Olive huffed failing to hide a smile. "Yes." Jonah's smirk widened.

"You two seem to be on better terms this morning, as well," Chuck spoke again, looking back and forth between the two.

Jonah walked to Olive and put his arm around her shoulder. "Didn't Olive tell you? She and I are the _bestest _of friends now."

Chuck smiled and Ned's jaw dropped another inch.

"Hardly," Olive said with a snort, hitting Jonah's arm. "We're in therapy," she added, hitting Jonah's arm again until he moved away. "Now, there's still one more thing to take care of," Olive began digging through the bag that she had brought with her. "Tah dah!" she exclaimed pulling out a stocking with Chuck's name scrolled across the top.

Chucks' face brightened like a rising sun. "Really?" She asked, walking forward and taking the stocking.

Olive nodded with a smile. "It's more than just Ned and I, now."

Chuck smiled, leaning forward to hug Olive; the smaller woman stiffened slightly before briefly returning the hug. "Thank you," she said pulling back and making her way to hang it next to Ned and Olive's stockings.

Jonah cleared his throat. "Yeah, I got one for you too. Here," Olive said, throwing the item so it hit him in the face.

"Thank you," he said, going to hang his as well.

"What?" Olive asked, Ned, once the two were alone, realizing—for the first time—that he was staring at her in astonishment. The Pie Maker didn't respond. "Ned?" she asked, waving her hand in front of his face.

The movement snapped the Pie Maker from his daze. "C—c—can I talk to you over…here," he said, grabbing Olive by the arm before she could respond and dragging her to a far corner of the kitchen.

"Ned! What are you doing?"

"You let Jonah help you," Ned said quickly, his tone nothing-less than accusing.

"I did," Olive answered slowly, as if she were talking to a child. "Well, actually he more like--,"

"Did he proposition you?" Ned asked, interrupting her, his voice rising slightly.

"What? Proposi—oh! Ned!" Olive exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I—No! He merely said that he would make himself invisible and make some cocoa."

"Cocoa?"

"Yes Ned, cocoa."

The Pie Maker laughed nervously. "Right…cocoa…I---sorry…"

Olive's arms tightened around herself as the two fell into an awkward silence. "You know," Olive spoke after a moment. "For someone who doesn't like awkward you sure do create a lot of awkward situations…" she said, fidgeting.

"Yes…" Ned replied, sticking his fisted hands in his pockets and walking away. Olive finally allowed herself to blush.

* * *

"What's up?" Ned asked, sliding into the booth before Chuck.

Emerson sat down across from them, throwing his daily newspaper and his hat on the table. "We've got a problem--,"

"Morning Emerson," Olive said, approaching the table and pouring him a cup of coffee. Chuck picked the newspaper off the table and began reading it.

"Yeah, hey Olive, look we got--,"

Chuck gasped. "Oh my gosh, listen to this."

Emerson fists clenched. "What the hell you doing?"

"Reading the paper," Chuck replied, looking up.

"No, you're reading _my_ paper. As in mine not yours," Emerson said, taking the paper out of Chuck's hands.

"But it was on the center of the table, making it anyone's."

"Says who?"

"Says the rules of dining diner laws. Any item placed on the center of a table is free game for anyone sitting at the table," Chuck explained, taking the paper back.

Olive quickly sat down next to Emerson, too his hat, placed it atop her head, and smiled cheekily. "How do I look?"

"Give me that," Emerson growled, all but ripping the hat off of Olive's head. Olive frowned and shrugged.

Chuck smiled at Olive who winked surreptitiously. "Now, as I was saying--,"

"I believe I was saying something first."

"Emerson," Ned finally spoke, his voice weary.

"Oh sure, go on, side with dea--," Emerson was quickly interrupted by a kick from Ned, who tilted his head towards Olive. "Fine" he growled, "But don't you think I'm forgetting this," he finished pointing to Chuck then Ned.

"Now," Chuck began. "It's this article. _The Romance Rogue_."

"Sounds mystery," Olive said excitedly.

"And nauseating," Emerson added, under his breath.

Charlotte Charles began to read the article. " _'Police believe that there is a link between four cases of mass robberies that have taken place over the past six months--,'"_

"So?" Emerson asked interrupting. "Another string of large scale robberies."

"But this one is different," Chuck said impatiently.

"Then get to the details, I don't have time for this," Emerson replied, balling his fists.

"Fine, uh…._ 'While all four victims call the culprit by four different names, and have given four very different physical descriptions, the facts of the scandals all point to one man…"_

The facts were these:

Abigail Neverson had finally found the man of her dreams. He called himself Jack Billington. Abigail and Jack fell madly and deeply in love, and Abigail was certain this time it would last forever. That was, until the day when Abigail woke to find Jack gone; along with her three banking account funds. And so was the same for the next three victims: Amy Thompson fell in love with Jeffery Bits, Gena Hanson fell in love with Jippy Bosworth, and Tina Anderson fell in love with Jake Bott. All so in love to have their bank accounts (and hearts) crushed.

"…_ 'Each women claim to have no knowledge over ever giving "the Rogue" their financial information and some have even gone to the lengths of blaming the man of using some hypnosis or magic. At this point the authorities have no leads and ask that every woman be on her guard. If you have any knowledge regarding this mystery man and his horrible crimes, you are encouraged to contact police immediately…'"_

Olive put her hand to her heart as Chuck finished reading. "How sadly tragic," she said.

"Is there any other kind?" Ned asked.

"Well sure. You've got horribly-tragic, depressingly-tragic, beautifully-tragic, happily-tragic, though that's really more of an oxymoron than anything because what tragic event can ever be happy?"

"Um…none…?" Ned offered an answer as Emerson took the paper back from Chuck.

"Exactly," Olive responded pointing at him. "And then there's tragically-tragic, which is just so tragic that you become more depressed than you were to begin with. Putting you in a state of depressingly-tragic. You know, it's really just a vicious cycle."

"How is it possible for anyone to feel that great of a span of emotion and tragic-ness?" Ned asked, looking a little uncomfortable.

Olive shrugged.

"What's so tragic?"

The four occupants of the booth jumped when Jonah appeared beside them.

"The Romance Rogue," Ned said.

"Oh, pretty sad, huh? I've been following the story for a while now."

"How could you have been following the story for a while? It's just breaking news," Emerson said, pointing to the bold above the article that read "Breaking News"

"Well, the fact that the police have called the crimes related is 'Breaking News'" Jonah explained, using air quotes. "But the first three crimes have been in the news for a while now. It wasn't until this fourth one that it got so big."

"Those poor women," Chuck said, shaking her head.

"The Romance Rogue," Olive said, letting the words roll off her tongue.

* * *

The day was progressing slowly at The Pie Hole. Ned and Chuck had, once again, left with Emerson; leaving Olive and Jonah to run the restaurant by themselves. At this most current moment, the two employees found The Pie Hole empty, leaving them alone. The two sat behind the front counter as Jonah dusted off cups and plates and Olive stacked them to be put on the tables, placing a small napkin in each cup.

"You know, I must say, these decorations are so…Olive-esque," Jonah said.

"Olive-esque?"

"Yes, Olive-esque. Anyone who knows you would be able to tell that it was your doing."

"But you don't know me at all."

"I'd like to," Jonah whispered cheekily.

Olive rolled her eyes. "Just because I agreed to be friends with you, doesn't mean I still don't find you annoying."

Jonah laughed. "Do you find many things annoying?"

Olive shrugged. "When it comes to annoying, I have a very low tolerance level."

The two fell into a companionable silence.

"Too bad we can't bring real snow in here, instead of this fake fluff," Jonah said after awhile, trying to keep the conversation going.

Olive smiled, looking through the window to the snow falling outside. "Yes it's too—oh crap."

"What?" Jonah asked, his head snapping to Olive.

"Dilly…"

"Dilly?"

"Balsam…"

"Balsam?"

Olive sighed, grabbed Jonah's face and turned it towards the windows. There stepping outside of her sweet shop and making way to The Pie Hole was Dilly Balsam.

"Dilly?" Jonah asked.

"Yes Balsam, from Balsam's Bittersweets Taffy and Sweets Emporium," Olive explained bitterly. "Ever since she opened business across the streets she's been trying to shut us down." Olive made a point to avoid the specific details, still ashamed of setting rats loose in Bittersweets; an act that had inadvertently led to Ned's arrest.

"Is she another one on your annoying list?"

"Oh yes," Olive said with a nod, after all she wasn't _sorry _she had let the rats loose. "She's a royal pain if I've ever seen one."

"Even more of a pain than me?" Jonah asked with a smirk.

"When it comes to being a pain she's the King, Queen, and Jack all rolled up into one."

"What about the Ace?"

"What?" Olive asked, turning to her companion.

"Well, the Ace. To be a complete royal pain, wouldn't the Ace have to be involved?"

"But the Ace isn't royalty."

"The Ace is like the king of all cards!"

"The King is the king of all cards," Olive said with a roll of the eye.

Jonah's smirk widened. "Fine, the Ace is like the almighty."

"No it's not."

"Remind me some time to teach you how to play cards."

"Shhh," Olive quieted him as Dilly opened the door. "Dilly," she said, crossing her arms.

"Trunk monkey," Dilly replied, walking to the counter and sitting down. Jonah bit his lip to keep from laughing. Olive scowled.

"Can I help you?"

"Can't I merely come have a piece of pie from the pie heaven that is The Pie Hole?"

"You and I both know you don't want pie, Dilly," Olive said with a pointed look.

"Fine," Dilly said with a dramatic sigh. "As I looked out my window I couldn't help but look through yours and notice that you've set up quite a holiday display."

"So?"

"So…maybe I just wanted to join in on your holiday cheer and enjoy your display."

"So you could go right out and buy a bigger and better display to put up in your shop?"

Dilly smiled. "Now you're catching on."

"Dilly, it's Christmas. Can't you leave the competition alone for one day?"

"There's no rest when it comes to business. Besides, candy sales sky-rocket during the holiday season. And if I want my sales to sky-rocket even more, I need a bigger and better display to make sure no customers stray."

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

Both women turned to see Jonah sitting at the counter two seats away; Olive's jaw dropped. He had taken off his apron, parted his hair the other way, and was speaking in a deep southern drawl. He took a sip out of a cup that Olive knew was empty.

"You say you sell candy?"

"Yes," Dilly replied, skeptically. "Weren't you just standing behind the counter?"

Jonah shook his head. "No ma'am. I've been sittin' right here the whole time."

Dilly narrowed her brow.

"Like I was saying, ma'am, you sell candy?"

"I own the candy store across the street, if you must know."

"Do you now?"

"Yes."

"Well then, you're just the woman I've been looking for."

"Oh?" Olive and Dilly asked at the same time.

"Oh yes, you see I'm a business man myself and I've been looking to start a chain of businesses."

"So."

"So? So?" Jonah laughed. "Well, ma'am. You see, I'm not the entrepreneurial type myself. I'm much more of a marketing man. And I've been looking for a business partner to align myself with and create a whole empire. And I was just thinking, as I was sitting here drinking my coffee, that candy would be the way to go. Who doesn't love candy?"

"What about pie?" Olive asked, crossing her arms, trying to hide her amusement. "Who doesn't love pie?"

Jonah scoffed. "Pie's too old fashion. Candy is new, hip, the in thing."

Dilly looked smug as she turned to Olive. "See."

Olive rolled her eyes.

"Now," Jonah said, standing and walking to Dilly. "If you and I were to become partners. Well, think of the possibilities. With my marketing skills, and your candy skills—not to mention your pretty face—why, there's nothing we can't do."

"I don't know…" Dilly said, still looking skeptical, but intrigued none-the-less.

"I'll tell you what," Jonah said, placing a hand on Dilly's shoulder and pulling her towards the door. "Why don't we discuss this more over a nice plate of taffy, hm? You just go ready yourself and your store and I'll be right along."

"Well," Dilly said, looking towards Olive, who was trying her best to look offended, instead of amused. "Alright," she said, with a smile, leaving The Pie Hole and walking back to Bittersweets.

"How did you do that?" Olive asked, eyes wide, after Dilly had disappeared

Jonah shrugged. "Weren't you just watching?" He smirked.

Olive laughed. "I can't believe you just out-sweet-talked the queen of sweet-talk."

Jonah smirked. "Didn't I tell you? Sweet-talk is my middle name," he said, his voice losing all traces of the southern drawl.

Olive threw a napkin at him, which he caught with a laugh. Olive looked at her hands. "Thank you, I was about ready to hit her."

"Now there's a sight to see," Jonah replied, setting the napkin on the counter and turning towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Why, to negotiate with Dilly of course."

Olive's brow rose.

"And then, after obtaining a plethora of free candy, I'll kindly let her know I'm no longer interested."

"You're horrible," Olive smiled.

Jonah smirked. "I'm amazing," he said, before slipping through the door and into the cold.

* * *

"Morning Olive," Chuck said the next morning as Olive walked into The Pie Hole.

"Good morning, Chuck."

"Jonah asked me to give this to you," Chuck said, picking up a small wrapped package and handing it to the other woman.

"Oh?" Olive asked, taking the object and tossing it between her hands. "Why doesn't he just give it to me himself?"

"Today is his day off," Chuck explained. "He just stopped by briefly before going out."

Olive nodded and stared at the small square package. "It's hardly Christmas yet," she mumbled under her breath.

"Are you going to open it?"

"Hm?"

"The gift," Chuck said, leaning on her forearms. "Aren't you going to open it?"

"Oh yes, of course.

Slowly, Olive pulled the paper back, revealing a deck of cards and a note. Olive smirked, unfolding the note; it read:

_Olive,_

_This is a deck of cards. Inside you will find 52 of them. There are four different suits: hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades. Each suit contains thirteen different cards. I would name them all but that would take too long, I only need inform you that the Ace is the highest. Please remember that, so when I beat you at some games I won't feel so bad. Thank you._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Jonah_

Olive rolled her eyes, smiled, and stuffed the deck away in her coat.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there's chapter six! I hope you enjoyed it. This will probably be the last update for about a week or so. Yay for Christmas and then I'm off to Flagstaff to enjoy the snow! Yeah for snow! It will be so exciting…anywho! I'll update as soon as I can!!

Thanks to anyone who reviewed

If I don't update before the New Year, I wish you all a safe and happy New Year!

Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd


	7. Chapter Seven: Christmas Eve

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pushing Daisies

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Seven: Christmas Eve**

Christmas Eve at The Pie Hole had finally arrived.

As the Pie Maker had promised the main lights were turned off for the day; allowing the icicle lights to create a mystic glow in the room. And, as the Pie Maker had predicted, Olive Snook had successfully dropped three plates, two cups, broken one bowl, and had tripped five times…so far.

"Who's idea was it to keep the lights off, anyways?" Olive grumbled, rubbing her behind, as she walked into the kitchen.

"Mine," Chuck said, brightly, rolling out pie crust.

"Lovely," Olive mumbled underneath her breath.

"Oh come now, Olive, you are the one who decorated in the first place," Jonah said from the sink as he dried some dishes.

"Yes, but I didn't intend for the lights to be turned off."

"Klutz." Jonah said, making Chuck laugh quietly.

"You don't think it's pretty, Olive?" Chuck asked, lining a pie tin with crust.

"Sure it's beautiful," Olive said with a sigh, glancing quickly into the dining area. "Just be sure you don't leave any knives out so I don't trip and fall on one," she said as she left, accidentally running into the wall instead going through the door way. She glared as Chuck and Jonah shared a quiet laugh.

* * *

Because it was Christmas Eve business at The Pie Hole was slow. Coupled with the fact that patrons thought the shop was closed (due to the fact that the main lights were off) The Pie Hole met little business on the day before Christmas. At this current moment, the only customer was Emerson Codd, who sat at a booth talking with the Pie Maker. 

Olive stood at the bar counter, slowly wiping it down, making her strokes lazy. On such a slow day she was having trouble finding things to keep doing. She supposed that she could ask Ned to let her go home early, but the thought of leaving the Pie Maker any sooner than she had too was a thought Olive did not wish to live.

"So about our plans tonight," Jonah said, suddenly appearing at her side.

Olive jumped, clutching her towel to her chest. "Must you always do that?" she asked, taking in a deep breath.

Jonah smirked. "Yes."

Olive rolled her eyes and continued cleaning.

"Now, about our plans," Jonah began again, walking around the counter to look Olive in the eye.

"What plans?" Olive asked, her head snapping up, arm suspended above the counter.

"Our plans."  
"What?"

"We're having dinner tonight."

Olive froze. "Excuse me?" she asked, raising her brown.

"You and I are having dinner tonight."

"Since when?"

"Since about…eight o'clock this morning when I decided I was going to take you out to dinner."

Olive crossed her arms. "We're not having dinner tonight."

"Why not?" Jonah said with a smirk.

"For one," Olive said, holding up one finger. "You didn't tell me about it…in fact you're not even asking me. And two," she held up another finger. "I----," Olive paused, her mouth hanging open. "Well, I don't have a 'two'," Jonah laughed. "But the answer is still no."

"But, like you so nicely stated before, I'm not asking," Jonah explained, crossing his arms. "I'm telling." His smirk never seemed to fade

"And I'm telling you that we're not having dinner."

"Why not?" Jonah said, leaning forward slightly.

Olive swallowed hard and took a step back. "Because…it's…it's Christmas Eve!" She said triumphantly. "Ha!"

Jonah laughed. "All the more reason to celebrate," he explained, walking around the counter and taking hold of Olive by her arms.

Olive quickly shook her arms out of his grasp and took another step away, tripping over a chair. Jonah caught her quickly, grabbing her shoulders to steady her. "B-b-but you don't know where I live," Olive said, trying to come up with any excuse she could give.

"Actually, I do."

Olive's brow rose higher. "You do? Are you stalking me?"

Jonah laughed. "No. You know, there are other ways of finding information about you," he explained, shooting a glance towards the kitchen.

Olive looked over his shoulder to see Chuck standing at the window way. When Chuck saw Olive she quickly ducked down and out of view. Olive scowled. "Traitor," she mumbled.

"So I'll pick you up at eight."

Olive sighed. "I suppose I don't get a say in this, do I?"

Jonah smirked once again. "Now you're catching on." The bell above the door rang before Olive could respond. "Ah, a customer," Jonah said, stepping away from Olive. "I'll pick you up at eight. Wear something nice," he whispered to her as he passed, stepping to the customer and showing them to a table.

"But…Jonah!" Olive huffed. "I still think you're annoying," she called after him, catching not only his attention, but the new customer's, Ned's, and Emerson's. Olive flushed. "Sorry," she said, quickly returning to wiping down the counter.

* * *

Ten minutes laughter, Olive marched into the kitchen, a raging ball of petite fury. "Chuck," she said, her voice an octave lower than usual, as she threw her used towel on the counter. 

"Heh…Hi Olive," Chuck said slowly, quickly moving to stand on the opposite side of the counter as the blonde woman.

"How could you do that!" Olive practically yelled.

"What's going on in here? Everything alright?" Ned called from up front, sticking his head in through the window.

Olive and Chuck smiled. "Yup, just having some more girl business bonding," Chuck quickly explained, grabbing Olive and pulling her to the far side of the kitchen.

"What?" Chuck whispered, once Ned had turned away, shaking his head.

"How could you give Jonah my address?!" Olive whispered a yell.

Chuck smiled brightly, earning her a quick smack from Olive. "Ow!"

"Well?"

"Why is it such a big deal that I gave him your address?" Chuck asked.

"Did it ever occur to you that I don't want him to know where I live?"

Chuck sighed. "He likes you Olive, is it such a crime to give him a little push in the right direction?"

"Chuck that wasn't a push, that was a here's-the-key-why-don't-you-just-go-and-make-yourself-at-home-shove!"

Chuck laughed.

"Chuck, this is serious!"

Chuck shook her head. "No, Olive, what is serious is that there is a perfectly nice man out there who is trying to win your affection, and you're doing absolutely nothing about it."

"Maybe I don't like him that way? Hm? Did you ever think of that? Or maybe, I don't like him at all and I'm only tolerating him because we work together."

"I don't think that's the case, and you know it, Olive," Chuck said, suddenly serious, shooting a glance at the Pie Maker.

"Maybe it is the case! There's a lot of stuff that goes on in my mind that you don't know about," Olive said quickly, pointing to her head. "There's a whole lot of twisted up here."

The corner of Chuck's mouth turned up. Stepping forward she placed both her hands on either side of Olive's head and shook slightly. "Olive, I'm just trying to help," she said, releasing Olive's head.

Olive placed her hands over her eyes and rubbed. "I know, Chuck, I know. It's just…" she sighed.

"If it makes you feel any better, I promise never to disclose any more information about you to him from this point on."

Olive chuckled. "Thank you," she said, removing her hand from her eyes.

"You know what I think?" Chuck suddenly whispered.

"What?"

"I think you like him too," she said mischievously, quickly walking away.

"Chuck!" Olive huffed. "I swear if we weren't friend's I'd probably kill you."

Chuck turned in the doorway and smiled. "Go ahead and try," she said, cheekily. "Remember, I'm already dead."

* * *

Olive paced back and forth, running her arms down her sides and smoothing her dress. She felt ridiculous. "I feel so ridiculous," she muttered under her breath, rubbing the back of her neck. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this. So stupid. Big deal. Just dinner. Who cares? I don't." 

She stopped in front of her mirror, examining herself. She wore a deep-midnight blue, halter top dress that fell just below her knees. The material was smooth and if it weren't for her coat that was hanging by the door, ready for her, she would surely freeze in the winter weather.

She tugged at the dress, it didn't seem to be cooperating with her. She continued to fidget, trying to right things that weren't even there. Her hair seemed array, her face too pale, her hands were shaky, and her dress kept shifting. But nothing was actually wrong and she knew it. Her hair was fine, as was her skin tone, the dress was perfect. Just fine. Though, her hands were shaking. She rolled her eyes.

Digby barked.

"Fine, I do care," she said to the dog. "And you want to know why? Because he's annoying and infuriating. Just thinks he can take me out to dinner without even telling me. Stupid, stupid, stupid…"

There was a loud knock on the door, Digby barked again, and Olive jumped.

Clutching her hand to her heart, Olive turned towards the door, but didn't move. She stared at the door. Simply stared. She didn't know why she was making such a big deal of going to dinner with Jonah. It was just a simple meal. Dinner. That was all.

There was another knock on the door, though this time it was almost timid.

Olive took in a deep breath then exhaled until she had nothing left. "Just dinner, right Digby?" She asked the dog. Digby barked again, his tail wagging. "Right. Well, here I go boy." Squaring her shoulders she walked to the door and opened.

Before she could open her mouth in a greeting, a small white flower was shoved in her face, literally. She fidgeted and moved Jonah's hand away. "Charming," she muttered, as Jonah laughed.

"Pretty flower, don't you think?" Jonah asked, twirling the flower between his fingers.

"Daisies are my favorite," Olive supplied an answer, looking at the flower skeptically.

Jonah nodded. "I guessed as much."

"So I…suppose I should get a vase for it," Olive said, beginning to turn.

"What?" Jonah's voice stopped her. "Oh you thought I brought this for you?"

Olive turned to face him completely. "Well…I…didn't you?"

Jonah smirked. "Of course not, it's mine, I just brought it along to show you," he said, putting the flower in the pocket on the inside of his jacket. He smiled cheekily.

Olive rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile. "You would."

"Well, shall we go?" Jonah asked.

Olive nodded, "If I must," she said, making Jonah smile. She grabbed her coat, put it on, and made to go through the door, only to have Jonah's body stop her. "You know," she said, "In order to go to dinner, you have to move."

Jonah shook his head, "You placed it in a rather strategic spot, you know. I'm impressed," he laughed quietly, pointing up.

Olive froze, knowing exactly what Jonah was pointing at. Slowly she looked up. The mistletoe. The color drained from her face. She had placed a single piece of mistletoe above her door way in hopes that one day she would catch the Pie Maker off-guard.

Now, it seemed, she had finally caught—but it was horribly the wrong person.

Quickly she pushed passed Jonah and stood as far away from the door way as possible. Jonah chuckled quietly.

"Close the door, will you," Olive said, with as much dignity as she could muster.

Jonah did as instructing all the while laughing and shaking his head.

* * *

"You know, this is kidnapping," Olive said, once they were walking along the snow covered sidewalk. "I could have you arrested." She scowled. 

Jonah rose his brow. "Kidnapping?" He enquired. "How am I kidnapping you?"

"You're taking me to dinner against my will. Hence…kidnapping."

"But need I remind you that I have neither tied you up nor am I forcing you by any strength of my own."

"Regardless of whether I'm tied up or not, you're still taking me out against my will."

"Am I?"

"Well, do I look happy about going?" She making her scowl more prominent.

Jonah shrugged. "You may not look it, but I think you're very much coming with me agreeably."

"Am I?" She asked, throwing his question back at him. "I told you I didn't went to come along earlier today."

Jonah shrugged again. "And yet here you are."

Olive crossed her arms. "And I still don't want to be here."

He laughed. "Really? Because I'm pretty sure your readily made the choice to dress-up for our dinner and be ready by the time I picked you up," he stated, shooting her a teasing look.

Olive crossed her arms tighter around herself.

"_And_," Jonah added, "You opened the door. If you didn't want to come, then why would you have opened the door? Why not just pretend like you weren't there," he asked, catching her eye.

Olive averted her gaze and looked out to the empty street. "Something tells me that if I hadn't opened the door you would have banged away until I did."

Jonah laughed. "I may be persistent Olive, but I'm not stupid. I would have left you alone," he said, "Eventually," he added with a sly smile.

Olive stopped walking and stared after Jonah, who continued on, her mouth agape. She glared as she caught up with him.

"Ah. Here we are," Jonah said, stopping outside their destination. Olive didn't need to look at the sign to know of the restaurant that he brought her too.

"The Pie Hole?" She asked, looking more than astonished.

"Is that a problem?"

Olive shrugged. "Oh no. I only just spent the last nine hours of the day her, of course I have no problem with coming back and eating dinner here."

Jonah laughed. "I thought you liked this place?"

"Oh I do," Olive quickly added, almost feeling guilty for her previous comment. "But sometimes a change of scenery is nice."

Jonah nodded. "I'll keep that in mind for next time," he said opening the door.

"Next time?" Olive asked skeptically, taking off her coat and stepping inside. Jonah seemed to ignore her comment as he took her coat and his and placed them in an empty booth.

"Right over here," he said, motioning for a table that he set in the middle of the room. Olive felt her heart stop.

He had turned off the main lights, keeping the icicle lights on. There was a red table cloth placed on the table, three small candles sitting on the middle of it—flames shining brightly. The table settings were set, Olive immediately recognizing the simple diner china he had used; yet, the plates and silverware had never looked more beautiful or expensive. It was as if Jonah had magically transformed the simple items into so much more. Two wine glasses and a bottle of wine completed the ensemble.

Olive suddenly realized why she had been so flustered in her apartment.

"Is this a date?" She blurted before she could stop herself.

Jonah laughed. "Well, yes," he said, pulling out Olive's seat for her. "Did you think it would be anything else?" He asked, almost having to physically put Olive in the seat.

"Well…I—I…" Olive stammered, clutching her seat.

"Yes?" Jonah asked, suppressing a laugh.

"W—we only just reestablished our relationship, don't you think it's a bit too soon to be going on a date?" She said quickly, not knowing why she was so disconcerted about a date with the man before her.

Jonah crossed his arms and leaned against one of the bar counter stools, smirking. "Well now there's the problem," he said. "In order to reestablish a relationship we must establish what kind of relationship we are reestablishing ours as. I personally think it should be a relationship of the romantic nature."

"Romantic nature?" Olive asked uneasily.

"Yes, you know…where I take you to dinner and buy you ridiculously expensive trinkets then complain about how I never have any money. Then you gush and exclaim joyfully how much you love said trinkets then the minute I turn my back you throw it down the garbage disposal. A relationship of romantic nature," he said. "Who knows, it might be a lot of fun."

Olive shook her head. "What makes you think I want a relationship of the romantic kind?"

Jonah shrugged. "Because you're here. Sitting in that chair, and you haven't walked through the door, yet. Whether you want to be here or not, I certainly think you're subconscious does," he said, making Olive's eyes widen. "So I think you should just sit back, relax, and listen to your subconscious….just this once," he finished, walking into the kitchen. "Besides," he said, talking over his shoulder. "I made The World Famous Burke Family Cocoa. How could you possibly refuse that?"

* * *

"So," Jonah said five minutes later, setting down a bowl of salad in front of Olive and himself. Olive picked up her fork and took a mouthful of salad, still in shock of what had transpired five minutes earlier. "Why are you so hung up on our friend Ned?" 

Olive choked, nearly spitting up her salad. Had a liquid been in her mouth she was more than certain it would have gone through her nose. She swallowed, with difficulty, then downed half her wine. "What?" She coughed.

"You heard me," he said, smiling at the reaction he ad just gotten. He took a bite of salad.

Olive coughed again. "I believe what I meant to say was, 'Are you actually asking me this question?'," she said, her voice suddenly carrying a hint of ice.

"Yes, I am," Jonah said. "Is that a problem?"

Olive guffawed. "Really?" Jonah looked overly innocent. "Well, let's see. There's the fact that you one: kidnapped me. Two: have roped me into having a date. Three: then you bring up the one person and subject you know I _don't_ like to talk about," she finished factually. "Since this is a date, shouldn't you be trying to impress me or something? Not brining up the one person who I have a hard time to talk about?"

"Ah," Jonah said, tapping his nose. "But that's all part of my plan. First I get you to talk up my competition and then I show you have horribly wrong you've been by showing you why I am better."

"You're confident," Olive said, sarcastically. "How attractive," she said, failing to hide her smile.

"So why?" Jonah asked, not detouring from his original question.

Olive took another large bite of salad, and chewed slowly, moving the rest of the lettuce around in the bowl. She shrugged.

"You're avoiding my question," Jonah sing-songed.

Olive sighed. "Do I really have to answer the question?" she asked.

Jonah nodded. "Is it really that hard to talk about him?"

Olive didn't answer at first. "I don't know…he's…just…Ned."

"And that makes him so special?"

Olive nodded. There was silence. "Look, can we just stop talking about this?" she asked, burying her head in her hands.

Jonah nodded, though Olive couldn't see. "I hope you like chicken," he said, grabbing her salad bowl and walking into the kitchen.

Olive quickly straightened herself when he left, dabbing at the small amount of moisture that had built in her eyes. She sighed, how could she be so suddenly made into this mess of a woman just by the mention of Ned? And how was it that Jonah seemed to know exactly could get such different emotional reactions out of her in a matter of seconds? She shook her head, as Jonah reappeared with two plates, and discretely wiped her nose.

"Did it ever occur to you that I wasn't done eating my salad?" She asked, offering Jonah a small smile.

Jonah laughed quietly. "Yes and too bad. It's time for the main course. Unless you want cold chicken," he said, setting a plate down in front of her.

"Thanks," Olive said quietly, taking a bite of the food. Her eyes widened as she chewed and she frantically waved her hand in front of her mouth.

"Hot?" Jonah asked. "Or is it horribly bad?"

"Hot, yes," Olive said, taking a swig of wine. "Bad no. It's really good."

Jonah smiled into his glass as he took a drink. "Good, I'm glad you like it. Took me forever to make."  
"You made this?" Olive asked, astonished.

"Yes. Surprised?"

"Well…sorry, but yes."

Jonah smirked. "The amount of faith you have in me truly astonishes me," he said, dryly.

* * *

"Any big plans for tomorrow?" Jonah asked, setting a slice of Triple Berry pie and a mug of cocoa in front of Olive. 

"Thanks," Olive said. "And not really. Just the usual."

"And what's the usual?"

Olive shrugged and blew on mug to cool the liquid. "Christmas as always been my day, I generally spend it alone."

"Alone on Christmas? That hardly seems fun."

"Oh I don't mind, really. I wake up in the morning and make myself breakfast. I spend the morning making a pumpkin pie--,"

"Why don't you just take a pie from here?" Jonah interrupted waving his arm around.

Olive smiled. "As much as I love Ned…..'s pies, no pumpkin pie in this world compares to mine," she said.

"Really?" Jonah asked, leaning back in his chair, clearly amused.

Olive nodded. "Oh yes."

"And why don't you take one from here?"

"It's Ned's shop. I'm not one to intrude. Besides, it's sort of my little secret."

"Will you ever share your little secret with the rest of us?"

"By us, I take it you mean you?"

Jonah laughed and nodded. "Yes."

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't," she said. Olive was surprised to hear the statement come from her mouth. Was she flirting?

"What else do you do?"

"Oh, spend the day watching cheesy Christmas movies. Then in the afternoon I eat my turkey dinner which consists of an overly large turkey sandwich, with the works, and a side of freezer French fries. Then I spend the night watching more cheesy Christmas movies and eat my pie."

"The whole pie?" Jonah asked, raising a brow.

Olive blushed but nodded. "Yes."

"While it sounds like you have loads of fun, I still can't believe you spend Christmas alone."

Olive put her elbow on the table and pointed her fork at the man across from her. "Jonah, I spend every Christmas alone and I like it. It's my special day. And so help me, if I find you knocking at my door tomorrow I will be guilty of murder."

Jonah put his hands up. "I promise I won't disturb you at all. But, can I ask you something?"

"Depends on what it is."

"Well, why do you spend Christmas alone with Ned right next door?"

Olive leaned back in her chair. "Well, sometimes him and Emerson go to…conventions. And like I said, I just like some time alone. Christmas or not, alone time never hurt anyone. It's almost therapeutic. Sometimes being alone is just the cure one needs."

* * *

Olive Snook found herself lost in conversation. Dessert had been finished long ago and now they sat, talking. Just simply talking. The conversation flowed in a way Olive had never seen before. One topic led to another, she didn't know where one began and one ended. It constantly moved. They talked of families and jobs. The past and the present. Likes and dislikes. Everything and anything that came to mind. 

Their words and conversation swirled around Olive like wind. She laughed. She guffawed. She smiled. It was odd. So incredibly odd. Yet calming. She felt more relaxed then she ever had in a long time. He made fun of her at points and she bantered back, never backing down. It seemed to her they challenged each other, in a way no one had challenged either of them before.

…She felt…happy.

The two fell into a comfortable silence. Sipping their respective mugs of cocoa that Jonah kept refilling. Somewhere in the distance a church bell struck twelve.

"Merry Christmas, Olive," Jonah said, holding his mug out.

Olive tapped his glass with hers. "Merry Christmas."

* * *

Olive and Jonah quietly walked back to Olive's apartment. Olive held her hands behind her back while Jonah's were stuffed in his pockets. The earliest hour of Christmas morning was quiet and still, a light snow swirling in the air. Silently, they stopped outside Olive's apartment. 

"I had a good time, tonight, Olive," Jonah said, turning towards her as Olive unlocked her door.

Olive turned to him and smiled slightly. "As much as I hate to admit it," she said. "I did too."

Jonah smiled. "Even though I kidnapped you and held you against your will?"  
Olive laughed. "Even though you kidnapped me and held me against my will."

"Well, goodnight. And Merry Christmas."

"Goodnight and Merry Christmas," Olive replied, shifting from foot to foot as Jonah made no move to leave.

He looked up again and Olive slowly followed his gaze. The mistletoe. She gulped. Why didn't she take it down? "Well, goodbye," she said, quickly fumbling with the door handle.

Jonah's hand quickly stopped hers. He smiled. "You don't think I'm going to let you get away twice, do you?" he asked, quietly. His eyes shining as he tried to keep from laughing.

"Heh…yes?" Olive half answered, half asked.

Jonah shook his head. "You really haven't learned anything about me, have you?"

"Guess not," Olive whispered, breathing heavily as Jonah slowly began to lean towards her.

"Maybe you should start taking notes," he whispered back. Olive merely nodded.

Jonah was so close; Olive had never realized how many freckles covered his face. She could feel his hot breath on her lips, making her own lips tingle. Closer and closer. Any second now. Olive couldn't move, couldn't breath, couldn't even blink. She just waited eyes wide as Jonah drew near. Just as his lips were about to brush Olive's he paused, and Olive felt her breath hitch. Before she knew what happened, Jonah's lips were gone and he placed a delicate kiss on her cheek. "Merry Christmas," he whispered into her ear, before turning and walking down the hall and out of sight.

Olive sagged against the door, breathing heavily. Slowly she rose her shaky hand to her cheek. For a reason unknown to her, she smiled.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry I didn't get this up sooner! But I hope you enjoyed it! I don't know when I'll be updating again…but hopefully it will be soon! 

Thanks to anyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!  
Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd.


	8. Chapter Eight: The Beginning?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pushing Daisies…but how cool would that be!!!

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Eight: The Beginning?**

Olive Snook was having problems sleeping. It was now three-thirty in the morning on the morning of December twenty-sixth. She hadn't had an ounce of sleep for twenty-seven and a half hours. It wasn't that she wasn't tired; poor Olive was beyond exhausted. However, whenever Olive closed her eyes she found a certain face staring back at her.

Normally when Olive had trouble sleeping it was due to the fact that pictures of Ned floated before her eyes; taunting her with a love she would never acquire. More recently it had been due to the fact that Jonah's smirking gaze; observing her with his all knowing look. But the past two nights the vision before her was far worse than the two previous.

It started like it had always used to. Ned looking at her in a way that only meant she was dreaming. So loving, so gentle. Slowly he would lean forward, closing the gap that seemed to exist between them. But then just as their lips were about to meet Ned's features suddenly changed; morphing into the all too familiar ones of Jonah. It was then that her eyes would snap open; breathing heavily.

So she lay awake, staring at her ceiling. At some point during the night—when sleep had become something almost desperate—she had even been reduced to holding her own eyes open with her hands. An idea that had seemed smart, until her eyes had become so dry that she had to close them…only resulting in seeing visions she wasn't sure she wished to see.

Olive sighed heavily and turned onto her side, looking at the empty bed side before her. She was horribly alone. Had Digby been with her she probably would have taken him on a walk. But since he was currently next door with his actual owner, she stayed put. Walking alone at night was something she hated to do.

She shook her head and closed her eyes, opening them immediately when Jonah's face appeared behind her closed lids.

"Ugh, this is ridiculous," she murmured to the empty room.

Why was dinner with Jonah having such an affect on her? Olive knew the answer, though she hated to admit it. It was due to the fact that Jonah's lips had come so close to touching hers. She could still distinctly remember his warm breath hitting her lips.

As if on cue Olive's lips warmed at that second, as if recounting the almost encounter on their own.

And then there had been that look in his eyes. So intense, so focused, so pure. So incredibly enticing. The look alone was enough to make Olive's head spin. She couldn't remember a time a man had looked at her like that. It was as if she had been the only one in the world at that moment. And, if only for that moment, Olive allowed herself to believe that such things were true.

Groaning Olive turned onto her stomach and buried her face into her pillow; screaming. She couldn't do this. Wouldn't. Shouldn't. Such thoughts were dangerous. What about Ned? The man she loved? Well…._what_ about Ned? She loved him. Yet, he didn't love her. He loved Chuck. Chuck. Not Olive. Not her. Never her.

_"You know Olive, you really should get back out there."_

Chuck's voice rang in her mind.

_"No, Olive, what is serious is that there is a perfectly nice man out there who is trying to win your affection, and you're doing absolutely nothing about it."_

Olive, somewhat painfully, stared into the dark cotton that was her pillow case, as the fabric pressed against her face. It was quite obvious that Jonah had feelings for her. But did she really return them? Had someone asked her that two days ago she would have laughed in their face. But now…Olive once again recalled their almost kiss. If her reaction to that was any indication to her feelings, then yes, yes she did return them. She screamed again into the pillow.

She couldn't feel that way. It just wasn't possible. He was annoying and she wanted to hit him, and…he was horribly charming in his own way and witty and of course good looking. Olive pushed further into her pillow, hoping it would suffocate her. She had to fight it.

At that exact moment something in Olive seemed to change. Why was she fighting? Chuck's words about Jonah played through her mind again. A man had come into her life, a man who was (for once) showing her the type of affection she had craved for so long. She had pined after Ned for years. And not once had he returned her feelings. And now he had Chuck. And Olive was left to be alone. But now…

There was someone. There was Jonah. And in the past days she had found herself, secretly, enjoying his company. If he was willing to give romance a try with her, than who was she to refuse? This was what she had been waiting for, for far too long. Maybe she really should…give in…give in to what had been staring her in the face the moment Jonah had walked into her life.

With another sigh, Olive rolled back onto her back. Once again staring at the ceiling, she surmised that her life had suddenly taken yet another turn. Olive gulped, not knowing if this turn was exactly good or bad; not knowing where it would lead.

"Oh help…"

* * *

Five hours later Olive sleepily walked into The Pie Hole for work.

"Good morning Olive," Chuck said brightly as the blonde walked into the restaurant.

Ned looked up from behind the counter, where he stood leveling off the sugar dispensers. "Morning Olive," the Pie Maker said.

After a particularly long yawn Olive responded with a "Morning." Lazily she rubbed her eyes as she shrugged off her coat, getting tangled in the offensive garment.

"Didn't get much sleep?" Ned offered, raising his brow.

Olive shook her head. "Nope," she said quietly as she sat down across from Chuck at the table she was sitting at. "Did you have a good Christmas?" she asked, quickly changing the subject, feeling no need to explain why she hadn't gotten sleep.

Both Ned and Chuck smiled. "Yes," Chuck said shooting Ned a meaningful glance.

"The watch is great, Olive," Ned said, holding up his hand, showing off the watch Olive had given him for Christmas.

Olive smiled shyly. "You're welcome."

"And the picture frame is beautiful," Chuck added. "Where did you get it?"

Olive waved her hand in the air, "Around," she said vaguely. "And thank you both for your gifts. The horse pajamas," (which had been from Chuck), "And the horse mugs," (which had been from Ned), "Are perfect. Though if you breathe a word about them to anyone…" she trailed off, her playful threat making her companions smile. "I need coffee," she said, pushing herself out of the seat and walking over to where the coffee pots sat.

"No espresso?" Chuck asked, smiling.

"I'm never going to have another espresso as long as I live," Olive said, distastefully, pulling a face of disgust.

"How was your dinner the other night?" Chuck asked quietly once Olive was sitting at the table again.

Olive froze and shot a quick glance at the Pie Maker, who seemed blissfully unaware of their conversation.

"Good," Olive said indifferently into her cup, hiding the smile that was some how trying to break on her face.

Chuck smiled. "Did you have a good time?"

"Oh I suppose," Olive said, again, looking anywhere but Chuck.

"Are you going to go out again?"

Olive sighed. "Chuck…"

"Well are you?"

Olive shrugged.

* * *

"Psst….psssssst….PSSSSSSSSST!"

Chuck's head snapped up. Olive was standing in the kitchen door way, leaning her upper body into the dining area. She waved at Chuck frantically. Picking up the used utensils and dirty plates on the table Chuck wove through the occupied tables and chatter of customers.

"What?" she asked, as she approached the smaller woman.

Olive took the dirty dishes from Chuck's hands and placed them on the small shelf behind the front counter, then grabbed the brunette. Olive led them through the kitchen and into the ally outside the kitchen door. "Olive, what's going on?" Chuck asked nervously once the door had closed.

Olive didn't say anything, but turned and dug through a bag that was on that had carefully been placed on the ground. Slowly Olive pulled out a wrapped package and held to her chest. "I…um…the picture frame wasn't your real gift," Olive said awkwardly.

Chuck smiled slightly, the joy of having yet another present to open filling; making her feel like a child. "Oh?" she said, masking her excitement.

Olive nodded, shifting from foot to foot. "Um…I didn't give it to you yesterday because I didn't want Ned to see it," she said slowly.

"Why?"

"Well, I have a feeling that he shouldn't know I'm the one delivering your aunts pies, you know?"

Chuck felt her heart race quicken at the mention of her aunts and something inside her broke and mended at the same time. "Olive?"

"I thought you would want this," she said, finally holding out the package for Chuck to take.

Chuck took the item with shaky hands. The gift looked to be just under a foot long and appeared to be rolled up, like a poster would be. Taking in a steady breath, Chuck pulled the wrapping paper away; revealing a thickish paper. With another deep breath, Chuck unrolled the item. The sight that met her made her stop breathing and tears to well in her eyes.

It was a picture of her aunts, from their Darling Mermaid Darling days. They sat, in full mermaid garb, on the bleachers at their performance pool. The two had wide smiles on their faces, a picture of happiness that Chuck had rarely seen when it came to her aunts. The picture was autographed by both of the women. Chuck ran her hand on the picture, when she noticed more writing in the bottom right corner. She pulled the corner back farther. In a small loopy writing, that Chuck identified as Olive's were the words: "Only a pie away."

Chuck choked and clutched the picture. "Are we far enough into our friendship for me to cry in front of you yet?" she asked quietly, trying to control her sobs.

Olive smiled sheepishly and nodded slightly. Before Olive knew what happened Chuck was sobbing, her tears coming down with small gasps of air. She stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. It was true their friendship had grown, but allowing the taller woman to cry on her shoulder hardly seemed right. After all they weren't _that_ far into their relationship. And by the distance that Chuck was keeping, it seemed to Olive that the brunette thought the same thing.

"Thank you," Chuck whispered between her sobs. Olive ineptly patted the taller woman on the arm. "Sorry," Chuck added, after a time.

"The picture frame I gave you is to put this in, though I suppose that defeats the purpose of keeping it hidden from Ned," Olive said, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

Chuck laughed as she righted herself, quickly wiping her tears away. "I can always frame it and hide it under my bed."

Olive laughed lightly.

"Olive were did you get this?"

Olive blushed. "Remember when your aunts gave me all their Mermaid stuff?" Chuck nodded. "Well, before I gave it back, I went through it and found that and figured you might want it. You know, since you can't see them, at least you have a picture to remind you of how they look. We can't have you forgetting."

Chuck laughed. "Thank you, Olive. This means so much."

Olive nodded. "I know they mean a lot to you. I just wish you could see how happy they're becoming."

Chuck smiled. "Maybe some day I will."

"Chuck," Olive warned. "You now they wouldn't handle that well."

Chuck shrugged, slightly defeated. "We all have to have something to hope for."

Olive could only nod in response, knowing exactly what Charlotte Charles meant.

* * *

Jonah Burke quietly snuck into the kitchen on The Pie Hole. Smirking he approached Olive on tip toes; the woman having her back to him as she made a pie. Carefully, he stood as close as he could to her without touching her; lowering his head until his mouth was level with her ear. He laughed inwardly taking note that she seemed completely oblivious.

"Boo," he breathed into her ear.

Olive screamed and jumped, the dough that she had been about to place in the pie pan flew into the air. Laughing loudly, Jonah stepped around to her side and caught the dough before it hit the ground, placing it back on the floured counter. Olive turned to him, clutching her chest and breathing heavily.

"Don't…do…that!" she said between gasps of air, hitting his arm.

Jonah laughed again. "I would say sorry, but I'm not, so I won't."

Olive rolled her eyes as she turned back to the task of making a pie. She hastily began to roll out the dough again, since it had somehow tangled midair. "Can I help you?" she asked, noting that Jonah had yet to leave and was looking at her intently.

He shrugged and leaned his back against the counter so they were facing opposite directions. Crossing his arms, he spoke: "Have dinner with me tonight?"

Olive turned her head, immediately making eye contact with him. He was staring at her with the same look that he had the other night. She gulped and suddenly seemed to forget where she was. Somewhere inside her a voice was screaming for her to say no. To put an end to whatever was happening before something went horribly wrong (like things tended to do when Olive Snook was concerned). And though the voice was screaming, Olive found herself nodding in agreement.

* * *

"You cooked again?" Olive asked, that night as they once again sat in The Pie Hole after hours, enjoying yet another date.

Jonah smiled as he set the plates down before taking his seat. "You're still surprised?"

Olive shrugged as she picked up her fork. "I figured you wouldn't know anything passed chicken," she said, looking at the fettuccine alfredo that had been placed before her.

Jonah laughed. "Well this may come as a shock to you, but I used to work in a high end restaurant as a chef before I moved out here."

"Before you opened your dog and cat day care?"

Jonah nodded.

"How long did you work there?"

"Five years. Though I wouldn't have even had the job had it not been for my dad. He was the restaurants head chef."

Olive smiled. "I should have known you would have wormed your way in there," she said, taking a bite of pasta.

"I did no such thing, I never worm."

Olive rose her brow and sat back in her chair, waving her arms around the room. She swallowed. "And would you care to explain to me how you got _this_ job?"

"That was weaseling," Jonah said with a smirk. Olive rolled her eyes as she took another bite of pasta. "Speaking of working here," Jonah said, making Olive eyes widen as she chewed. "How long have you been working here?"

Olive swallowed. "Six years."

"Quite a while," Jonah stated obviously. Olive shrugged but nodded. "How did you ever come across this place?"

Olive opened her mouth to reply, changed her mind, and closed it. Feeling slightly embarrassed about why she had chosen to enter The Pie Hole in the first place. "I---,"

Jonah sat up straighter, intrigued by Olive's hesitant answer. "Yes?" He urged.

"I…had a horse whose name was Pi---," Olive started slowly, having a feeling that the mention of Pi would lead to a discussion of her jockey days. A conversation she did not want to have with Jonah, knowing he would probably never let her hear the end of it.

"Like in _National Velvet_?" Jonah asked, interrupting her.

"Yes. And I--,"

"Did you want to be Elizabeth Taylor, or something?"

Olive sighed and slouched, resting her forehead against her hand. "Are you going to let me finish?"

Jonah smirked and motioned with her hand to continue.

"As I was saying. I had a horse named Pi and he died. And one day I was walking down the street and saw a wonderfully lit sign that said The Pie Hole and I just thought it was a sign, you now?"

Jonah nodded. "But then how did you get the job?"

Olive cursed under her breath, as she realized that it would have been easier to just start her story from the time she had entered The Pie Hole. She sighed and continued her story, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't have to explain her jockey days. "Ned didn't have any employees when I came in. It was just him and he was in over his neck. So I offered to help him and he asked me to say."

"And the rest of the story is history," Jonah added dramatically.

Olive giggled despite herself. "Yes."

"So," Jonah asked after taking a bite of his pasta. "You had a horse. Did you live on a farm or something?"

Olive froze. Willing time to turn back so she could avoid the question. She quickly stuffed her mouth full of pasta, almost making it impossible to chew. Jonah quirked an eyebrow at her sudden behavior.

"What?" He asked, bemused.

Olive shook her head, chewing some and then putting more pasta in her mouth.

Jonah laughed some and leaned forward. "What are you hiding?"

"Nuffing," she said through a mouth full of food.

"You know, if you don't tell me, I'm going to bother you about it until you do."

Olive shook her head again.

"Fine," Jonah said with a shrug, grabbing her dinner plate and taking it from her.

"Hey!" Olive said through her mouthful. "Gif it baccckkk."

"Charming," Jonah said "And not until you tell me why. I mean your reason for owning a horse can't be _that_ bad."

Olive forcefully swallowed her mouth full of food, coughing. Jonah handed her, her wine glass which she took and drank from greedily. "It's not bad," she said after a moment. "Just slightly embarrassing and you'll never let me here the end of it."

"Well now you have to tell me."

Olive shook her head.

"Oh come on, please?"

"No."

"Olive…"

Olive sighed. "Fine…but don't laugh," she said pointedly.

Jonah made an "x" over his heart. "I promise."

"I used to be a professional horse jockey and Pi was my horse," Olive mumbled under her breath.

"What?" Jonah asked, leaning forward, having not heard anything Olive had said.

The blonde sighed again. "I used to be a professional horse jockey and Pi was my horse," she said again, begrudgingly, her eyes down cast.

There was silence. Slowly Olive lifted her eyes from her lap to the man across from her. Jonah was sitting completely still, still leaning forward, his face contorted a way that indicated he was clearly hiding laughter.

"You promised you wouldn't laugh!" Olive said like a small child.

"I'm not," Jonah said with difficulty. Olive glared. "I—I thought only men were horse jockeys," he said, chuckling slightly.

"Say hello to the one exception."

"Hello, One Exception," Jonah said. Olive scowled. "So were you any good?"

"In all modesty?"

Jonah nodded.

Olive shrugged. "Yes."

Jonah finally let out a bark of laughter. "I would have paid to see that. Or better yet, I would have bet on you."

Olive smirked. "Really?"

"If you really did win, then yeah."

"Well, I always win," Olive said, regretting the words the minute they left her mouth.

Jonah smile widely and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Are you flirting with me?"

"No," Olive said quickly while a rosy blush made its way across her face.

Jonah merely laughed.

Olive guffawed and held her hand out indignantly. "Can I have my dinner back, please?"

* * *

"Cocoa?" Jonah asked, even though he set the mug before Olive. Olive smiled and took the mug greedily.

"You fight dirty, you know," she said, taking as big of a drink as she could without burning herself.

"I do?" Jonah asked, bemused.

Olive nodded. "Using cocoa like this. Horribly unethical."

"Is the Burke Family Cocoa your weak spot?"

Shrugging, Olive replied: "Maybe."

"The ways to your heart amaze me."

"You know more than one?"

"Now you are flirting."

Olive blushed again. She hadn't meant to and yet she found it so easy to do so. What _was_ happening to her?

"Enough flirting for now," Jonah said, clearing their table completely. "Right now, we play."

"Play what?" Olive asked slowly, having a feeling she might need to be scared.

Jonah smirked, reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangle object. "Cards."

Olive laughed and relaxed.

"I thought I would give you your first proper lesson."

"Oh?"

"The game is simple," he said, turning his chair so his chest was leaning against the back of it. He began to deal the cards after shuffling a few times. "It's a simple game. The cards are divided between us. You don't look at them," Jonah said as Olive began to flip her cards to see them. She nodded and set them back on the table. "It's like a combination of 'War' and 'Slap Jack'. You have played those, right?"

"Yes, I've played those," Olive said, mimicking his voice.

Jonah smirked. "Just checking. Now, the goal is to obtain all the cards in the deck. We alternatively place a card down. We keep doing so until a face card appears. Once that happens whichever one of us didn't place it has a certain number of chances to put another face card down."

Olive nodded.

"A Jack as one chance, a Queen as two chances, a King three, and an Ace four. If you don't put a face card down in the allotted amount given, the other play gets the stack. And everything starts again. Got it?"

"I think so…" Olive said, "Anything else I should know?"

"Um," Jonah thought. "Yes, you slap doubles. The first person to slap it gets the pile."

"You mean I get an excuse to hit you?"

Jonah smirked. "The cards, Olive, the cards."

Olive shrugged but smiled.

"And, before we begin out game, I would like to point out that since the Ace is given four chances to beat, it is the _highest_ card."

Olive rolled her eyes. "What ever, just start."

"Ladies first."

* * *

Olive was sitting at the very edge of her seat, were she to move forward any the small woman would promptly fall off the chair. She was bouncing slightly, poised and ready. She had just over half the deck in her hand and was fully focused on the winning this obscure card game. She placed a nine down.

Smirking, Jonah placed his card down.

A nine.

Olive's hand shot out, slapping the deck before Jonah. "Ha!" she said, triumphantly taking the rather large pile that had built up.

"Having fun?" Jonah asked, more than amused as Olive put down a Queen.

"Shush, I'm concentrating," Olive said, watching as Jonah placed down a Jack. She swore quietly under her breath.

"Fifty bucks says you place down a three," Jonah said before Olive could touch her deck.

"What?"

"I wager that you're going to put down a three. The three of hearts to be more precise."

Olive rose her brow. "Fine," she said, confidently and placed her card down. "What?!" she exclaimed when the three of hearts stared back at her. She looked up to Jonah. "How did you?..."

Jonah laughed. "What can I say, I'm good," he said, picking up the small pile that he acquired. "Shall I try again?" he asked, taking note of Olive's furious look. She didn't respond, so he nodded. "I'm going to place down the six of spades," he said dramatically, closing his eyes and placing down the card.

Olive guffawed as the six of spades lay face up. "How are you---?" A light bulb went off somewhere in Olive Snook's mind. "You memorized the cards, didn't you?"

Jonah laughed and nodded.

"Cheater!"

"How is that cheating? I know what card is going to be played, but there's nothing I can do about it."

Olive huffed. "Cheater," she said again.

"Oh stop brooding and play your card," Jonah said, his smile telling Olive he was still teasing.

A wicked smile spread across Olive's face. With a movement so fast that it surprised even Jonah, Olive grabbed his cards out of his hand; holding both his deck and hers behind her head.

"What are you---?"

In another swift movement the blonde picked up the six of spades and added it to the ow combined piles, making the deck complete.

"I know a fun card game too," Olive said mischievously. "Fifty-two card pick up," she said before throwing the cards into the air making Jonah laugh as cards rained down upon them.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well…there's chapter eight! I hope you liked it!!! I don't know when I'll be updating next, but my goal is to do so later on this week before I have to go back to school next week, cause who knows when I'll be able to update then.

Thanks to anyone who reviewed!!!

Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd


	9. Chapter Nine: Caught

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, I most definitely don't own Pushing Daisies…

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Nine: Caught**

_At this precise moment, walking the halls of High School High, Olive Snook was seventeen years, 5 months, three days, eight hours, and forty-two minutes old. With an air of confidence Olive entered her senior math class. Maneuvering through the many desks she sat in the last row, her assigned seat, that was a mere three desks away from Neal, the man of her dreams. He was tall, he was strong, he was handsome, and he was a football player. But most importantly, in Olive's mind, he was hers._

_She blushed when Neal came in and he sat down, giving her his bright smile before turning towards the board. With a giddy flutter in her stomach Olive began to draw a number of hearts across her notebook._

_There was a small tap on her shoulder; with a sigh Olive put her pink pen down and turned to who was interrupting her day dreaming. Her muscles tightened and her face morphed into a forced smile when she was met with the sight of Harold Shewman._

_"Um, hi Harold," Olive said, as the boy sat in his seat next to Olive's._

_"Hi Olive," Harold said excitedly, with a dorkish snort. He hastily pushed his thick black glasses up his nose._

_Harold Shewman had always pined for Olive Snook's attention. Ever since the two had met in middle school when Harold had accidentally tripped and his lunch had ended up all over Olive's front. His blatant affection seemed to grow and solidify only two years ago when Harold realized that, at his small height of 5'4" he would not be growing any more---and Olive, being so small herself, was the perfect woman for him._

_"I—uh, got you this," Harold said producing a small flower that was somewhat wilted and a box of chocolates._

_Olive felt her resolve lessen at the sweet gesture. "Oh, thank you Harold," she said, taking the offered items from his outstretched hand._

_Harold beamed. "I was wondering, if maybe, you would, um, maybe, go to prom with me?" the boy asked, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt._

_Olive opened her mouth to respond and froze; quickly feeling a guilt she had never known wash through her. Harold really was too kind. He always did sweet things for her. But she just didn't return his feelings that he made so obvious. She shot a glance at Neal, who was talking to Patricia Anderson. She looked back at Harold who was watching her expectantly._

_"I, would love to Harold," she started and Harold's smile grew. "But, I'm afraid I'm already going with someone," she finished. She watched, with a great amount of horror and discomfort, as Harold's shoulders fell._

_"Oh, well, that's okay. I knew I should have asked you earlier, had a feeling a lot of people would ask you…" his voice trailed off and Olive felt herself break a little; the truth was so far from what he had assumed. No one had asked her yet, Harold being the very first. But she had to hold out. Had to wait for Neal. It was the only thing she could do._

_"I'm really sorry Harold."_

_Harold shrugged. "That's okay, maybe save me a dance?" He offered._

_Olive smiled slightly and nodded._

_Harold's confidence seemed to grow slightly. "Okay then. I hope you like the chocolates."_

_Olive was saved from any more conversation as their teacher walked in and began their lesson._

After Olive Snook had been reduced to asking Neal to prom, only to be told that he wasn't going, and then seeing him show up with Patricia Anderson, Olive vowed to herself that she would never again wait for a man. It always seemed to happen the same way, after all. She would pine after a man and another, completely different man, would pine after her. And she would ignore him, time and time again, waiting for the one man _she _dreamed of. And time and time again she would get her heart broken and break a heart in return.

It was a vow that Olive had never been able to keep.

As Olive had become the Waitress at The Pie Hole and had become infatuated with Ned, the horrible cycle of heart ache continued. She longed to get the Pie Maker's attention, all the while turning down the many men who had sought her out. It was a vicious cycle that Olive never thought would end.

But now, in a strange turn of events—that Olive was sure she would never be able to explain, the end seemed to be in sight…

* * *

Olive Snook was daydreaming; though, her thoughts were far from fantasy or false. They were very, very real and had only happened hours before… 

_Jonah was walking Olive back to her apartment. After picking up the cards that Olive had thrown into the air and cleaning up their remnants of dinner both Olive and Jonah had decided to call it a night. _

_Quietly, they walked down the outdoor apartment hall. Olive was having a hard time focusing on walking. It seemed that the only thing she was allowed to be aware of was the feeling of Jonah's hand on back, as he led her town the hall. _

_His touch was light; it was as if he wasn't even touching her at all. Feathery almost. Leading her, even though she didn't need it. It was the first time he had ever touched her in a way that wasn't because he was trying to stop her from walking away. It was gentle. _

_Olive shook her head. Step left, step right, step left, step right. Stop.  
They stopped outside Olive's door and Olive jingled her keys as she waited to see what Jonah was going to do._

_The man looked up with a smirk on his face, that suddenly disappeared when he noticed that the mistletoe that had been there two nights before was now gone._

_"You moved it?" he said, laughing lightly._

_It was Olive's turn to smirk. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, nonchalantly._

_Jonah smiled and put his arm on the doorframe; if Olive were to open her apartment door, she wouldn't have been able to get in because she would have run into his arm. She swallowed, with an unpleasant difficulty._

_"So I had a good time tonight," Jonah said casually._

_Olive nodded. "Yeah…me too," she said quietly. He was standing close. She took in a deep breath and almost wished she hadn't; he smelled nice. Like cinnamon combined with a musty wood. Sandalwood, perhaps. She exhaled slowly._

_"Would you like to go out again tomorrow night?"_

_"I—I can't," she said, slowly, looking up and meeting Jonah's steady gaze. "I have plans." Olive was happy that, for once, her excuse wasn't merely an excuse, but fact; she was certain that, had she been lying, Jonah would have been able to tell. Tomorrow she would be delivering a pie to Chuck's aunts, where she fully intended to spend the better part of the day and early evening._

_Jonah nodded. "Maybe in a couple of days then?"_

_"I'd like that," Olive found herself saying, without really realizing it. But what surprised her more was that she actually and truly meant it._

_Jonah smiled and leaned forward. Olive's breath caught. _

_Instead of lingering like he had the other night, Jonah simply kissed Olive on the cheek and stepped back. "Goodnight Olive," he said before walking towards the stairs._

_"Goodnight," Olive said quietly, feeling warmth spread through her body, starting at her cheek._

_Jonah must have heard her, for he turned and waved before continuing on down the hall and disappearing out of sight…_

"Olive…Olive…Olive…hellooooo…earth to Olive…"

Olive jumped, snapping from her thoughts. Chuck was standing before her with a knowing smile on her face.

"Sorry," Olive said with a blush realizing that her thoughts had some how taken hold of her when she was taking her coat off; making her freeze in mid act, one arm extended in the air.

"Are you ok?" Chuck asked as Olive pulled her coat on fully.

"Yeah," Olive squeaked. "Just thinking."

Chuck nodded. "So how was your dinner last night?"

Olive froze again. "What?"

"Oh don't play dumb, I know you had dinner with Jonah last night," she said. "_Again,_ might I add…"

Olive simply stared. "How did you….?"

Chuck laughed quietly. "I heard you two leave around eight."

"You did?" A deep crimson blush began to spread across Olive's pale cheeks.

"Oh yes," Chuck said cheekily. "You two were arguing about something or other. I couldn't really tell. But I did notice that you didn't return to your apartment until about one in the morning."

"You stayed up that late?" Olive asked, forgetting about what they were talking about, curiosity getting the better of her.

Chuck shrugged and avoided answering the question. Olive didn't need to know that she had waited at the door to the apartment she shared with Ned, occasionally checking out the peep hole all night to see what would happen when Olive and Jonah returned. She had been horribly disappointed to see that, when they had, they were out of her line of permitted sight.

"So, did he kiss you?"

"Chuck!"

"Well, did he?"

As if on its own accord Olive's hand shot to her cheek before she could stop the action. Once again, a gentle warmth spread through her body at the thought of Jonah's lips touching her cheek. Her blushed deepened.

"Aw!" Chuck exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "When you are going out next?"

"What makes you so sure we're going to dinner again?" Olive asked, crossing her arms.

"I can just tell."

Olive rolled her eyes. "Please…honestly?" She asked in disbelief.

Chuck shrugged. "You always smile when you're around him---,"

"I most certainly do no-,"

Chuck held up her hand interrupting Olive's interruption with her own. "You always smile when you're around him and you don't even _realize _you do it."

Olive didn't respond. She simply stood, not knowing what to say to Chuck's observation. She didn't want to believe it, yet some part of her had a feeling that it was probably true. She inwardly cursed herself.

"So," Chuck began again, after a moment's silence. "When are you going to dinner again?"

"Sometime in the next few days," Olive said, the words rolling off her tongue before her mind could stop them. She bit the insides of her cheeks.

Chuck smiled.

* * *

"Hello," Jonah said, sliding up next Olive as she stood in the kitchen, boxing the pie that she would be taking to Chuck's aunts Lily and Vivian. 

"Shocking," Olive replied.

"What?" Jonah laughed lightly.

"You didn't sneak up on me, I'm surprised."

"You're surprised because I didn't sneak up on you?"

Olive picked up some flour that had been left on the counter and threw it on him. "Can I help you?" she asked.

Jonah shrugged. "I was just wondering what the guidelines are that I must follow when dating you."

Olive dropped the pear pie into the box and turned to Jonah. "First, of all," she said wiping her hands on a towel. "What makes you think we're dating?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Had Jonah been talking to any other woman than Olive Snook, he would have taken offense to her last comment. "Well," he started, bumping Olive with his hip. "We've gone on two dates."

"Exactly," Olive said, pointing at him. "Just two dates. We've gone out a couple of times, that doesn't mean we're dating. We have to go out a few more times, before I consider it that."

Jonah grabbed Olive's offered finger. "Well, technically we've gone on four dates."

"What?" Olive asked, trying to pull her finger from Jonah's grasp. She failed.

"Well, a normal date usually only lasts a couple hours. Wouldn't you agree?"

Olive shrugged and tried to pull her finger away again. "Sure," she said upon failing.

"However, you and I, have gone on two very long dates that have lasted four and five hours," he explained. "_So_, technically we've gone on four dates. Besides, we're having dinner tomorrow night as well."

"How do you know I'm not busy tomorrow night?" Olive asked, hitting his hand with her free hand, trying to make him let go.

"Because if you were busy you wouldn't have asked me that question."

Olive scowled and pulled her hand again just as Jonah let go, making her fall back slightly. Jonah smirked as she righted herself.

"Now, what's your second of all?" he asked, once Olive began to attend to the pie.

"My what?"

"You said, 'First of all,'" Jonah said, mimicking Olive's high pitched voice. Olive threw more flour at him. "So I'm assuming you had a 'second of all'."

"I did?" Olive asked, looking up as she slid on the box's lid, but not looking at Jonah. Jonah laughed. "I mean, I did!" She said, and once again turned to him.

"Well?"

"Why do you think I have guidelines when it comes to dating? You make me sound like some control freak or something."

Jonah smiled and shrugged. "I just want to do everything right. Don't want to over step my boundaries, you know?"

"How kind," Olive said dryly, though she couldn't conceal the small smile that had broken on her lips.

"So what are they?" Jonah persisted again when Olive didn't say anything else.

Olive shrugged. "I've never really thought of that before."

There was a silence and Olive began to grow nervous. She kept fidgeting with the pie box, turning it in a circle and pretending to wipe it clean.

"So, then it will be okay if I do this?" Jonah asked, placing his hand on Olive's back.

Olive froze as a warmth that was becoming too familiar began to spread through her veins like a wild fire. "S-sure," she squeaked. She looked around the deserted kitchen making sure they were alone, even though she knew they were.

"Or this?" Suddenly Jonah's arm was completely around her shoulder, pulling her flush against his side.

Olive's breath caught and she clutched the counter. Her initial reaction was to stiffen at the embrace, and though she tried to, she felt herself relaxing.

"Okay?" Jonah asked, quietly, shaking her should lightly.

"Uh huh," Olive said nodding, feeling slightly dazed.

"And one more thing," Jonah said again, turning slightly and leaning towards the blonde in his arms.

Olive started to breathe heavily, her heart rate speeding up. Time seemed to slow as Jonah leaned forward. Olive tried to keep her eyes open, focused on what was about to happen, but slowly, even slower than time, her eye lids began to close.

The strange spell that had engulfed The Pie Hole kitchen was swiftly broken by the loud clatter of glass as it hit the floor.

Olive jumped back, but Jonah remained exactly where he was. Turning their attention away from each other they were met with the sight of Ned standing in the door way, a pile of broken plates at his feet.

Olive blushed a deep crimson red as she untangled herself from Jonah's arms, tripping slightly and falling backwards. Jonah went to catch her, but she pushed him away and steadied herself.

"Uh…" Ned simply stared, mouth agape at the couple in the kitchen.

"Well, this just got awkward," Jonah said, looking between Olive—who looked like a deer in headlights—and Ned—who looked like he was about to hit said deer. "I think I'll just go see if Chuck needs any help."

Before Olive could stop him, Jonah placed a small kiss on her cheek and walked from the kitchen. "Jonah," Olive hissed, her eyes widening even more. Jonah turned and winked, nodded at Ned, and left the kitchen completely.

The Pie Maker and the Waitress stood in the kitchen. Ned stared at Olive, his jaw almost hitting the floor, and Olive looked anyplace that wasn't occupied by Ned.

"Are you---are you….and…" Ned began to babble and he pointed to Jonah in the other room.

Olive shrugged, stiffly, and blushed.

"You are?!" Ned's voice raised, staying in an upper register.

"It's nothing," Olive said, quickly walking across the room, getting her jacket, and pulling it on.

"But you were just—just…that wasn't nothing," Ned's shock slowly began to clear, but his words no less jumbled and surprised.

"We've gone out to dinner a couple of times," Olive said, immediately regretting the words the minute they left her mouth as Ned's jaw dropped further.

The Pie Maker didn't respond and simply stared at Olive Snook.

Olive began to feel more uncomfortable by every passing second. How could she have allowed herself to get so carried away? Especially when there were other people so near. Especially when _Ned_ we so near. Quickly, she walked back over to the counter and picked up the pie box.

"Look, I need to go deliver this pie, so I'll talk to you later. B—bye Ned," she said as calmly as she could.

"You don't deliver pies," the Pie Maker replied, making her stop.

Olive cursed under breath and turned back towards Ned. "This one is a special delivery." The word _lie_ was repeating over and over in Olive's mind, screaming at her. "For the, uh, ladies at the hospital."

"Ladies at the hospital?" Ned asked, his face contorting in confusion.

"Yes, the ones I…you now…volunteer for."

"But you don't volun—,"

"Why are you asking so many questions Ned?!" Olive said quickly, her voice rising in pitch with each word, as she stood on her toes.

Ned froze, his mouth falling open once more.

"I have to go," Olive rushed, flying from the kitchen. The cold air a wonderful welcome to Olive's over-flushed skin.

* * *

The sound of the kitchen door slamming shut snapped the Pie Maker from his shocked stupor. In a quick motion, he stuck his head into the dining area. "Chuck!" He stage whispered. The brunette looked up from plate of pie she had been eating. Ned ducked back into the kitchen. Confused, Charlotte Charles stood and walked into the other room.

"What is it?" she asked worried as Ned dumped the broken pieces of plate into the garbage and began to pace back and forth.

"Are Olive and Jonah, you know, together?"

Chuck felt the blood drain from her face, having a feeling that she was treading in dangerous waters. "Well, they work together, Ned," she said slowly.

Ned waved his hand. "Are they…_dating_?" The last word rolled off his tongue in a slightly distasteful way.

Chuck dug through her mind for to look for a neutral answer. "Well, what if they are?"

Ned shrugged. "I don't know, don't you think it's…weird?"

Chuck shrugged. "No, so they're dating. No big deal."

"No big deal? No big deal? It's…Olive's dating someone!"

Chuck's brow rose. "Why do you care if Olive is dating someone?"

Ned stopped pacing and turned to Chuck. "I don't," he replied simply and shrugged.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Jonah said before Chuck could reply, sticking his head into the kitchen through the window-way. "But Emerson is asking for you two."

* * *

"What's up?" Chuck asked as she and Ned slid into the booth. The Pie Maker had calmed considerably though he was still shaking his head slightly.

"This," Emerson said, throwing his ever present news paper on the table. The title _Still No Leads_ stared back at them. "It's about that Romance Rogue guy."

"They still don't know anything about him?" Ned asked taking the paper and reading the article.

Emerson shook his head. "But that's not the worse part."

"What could be worse than having no leads on a man who's completely destroyed four women's lives," Chuck said, sourly taking the paper from Ned when he handed to her. "And who knows how many more."

"What can make it worse," Emerson mimicked, "Is that, now, I'm involved."

"What?" the Pie Maker and Charlotte Charles asked simultaneously.

"The first victim, Abigail SomethingOrOther—,"

"Neverson," Chuck interrupted, correcting him.

"Whatever," Emerson said through clenched teeth. "She contacted me today. Asking me to investigate and offering the biggest reward I have seen."

"How can she offer a reward if her funds were wiped clean?" Ned asked.

"Something about a rich uncle or something who's helping her, I don't know nor do I care. The point is, I've been offered a hefty reward, and I won't be obtaining it."

"Just because someone is not dead and you can't use Ned's power?" Chuck asked.

"Gift," Ned said.

"What?"

"Gift. The term power is too…" Ned shuddered.

Chuck smiled. "Because you can't use Ned's gift?"

Emerson sighed. "No," he said, drawing the word out. "I can solve a case on my own, this Romance guy is just too difficult. No traces or anything. Completely clean. I've never seen anything like it. And with each victim giving a different description…" his voice trailed off. "There's just nothing there."

"They haven't been able to give you _anything_?" Ned asked.

Emerson shook his head. "The only thing the four seem to agree on is that he had blue eyes."

"Well, that's a start," Chuck said optimistically.

Ned and Emerson looked at her if she were crazy.

"Well it is," she said, matter-of-factly. "At least you can rule out all the brown and hazel eyed men….and the greened eyed, while you're at it."

Emerson smiled sarcastically. "Yes, because that is _so_ helpful."

Chuck shrugged and laid the paper back down, the three occupants of the table staring at it; none of them knowing what to say or think.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there's chapter nine everybody! I hope you liked it!!! I'm thinking I'll be able to update one more time this week before I go back to school next week.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!! I really appreciate it!

Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd


	10. Chapter Ten: A Kiss at Midnight

**Disclaimer: **I most definitely do not own Pushing Daisies…

**Author's Note**I can't believe we're already on Chapter Ten!!! Enjoy!

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Ten: A Kiss at Midnight**

Olive set the cup of coffee down on the table and slid into the window side booth next to Emerson.

"What's the hots?" She asked, settling in with a sigh.

"The hots?" Emerson asked, already sounding bored.

"Yeah you know, like the 'hot story'," Olive explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I just shortened it, because 'hot story' sounds stupid."

Emerson rolled his eyes. "Don't even pretend like 'hots' sounds better."

"Well sure it does, 'hot story' is too long. Hots is a lot better, right to the point. Direct." Olive emphasized the last word by poking her waitress pen into the air before her.

"I don't care what the hell hots is, I just want a piece of pie, so go," Emerson said with the wave of the hand.

Olive frowned. "What's got your reins in a knot?" she asked standing.

Emerson rolled his eyes again at Olive's horse reference. "Just get me a damn piece of blackberry."

"Is it the Romance Rogue case?" Olive asked, ignoring his request.

Emerson froze, his coffee cup raised to his mouth. "Who told you I was on that case?" he asked, putting the cup down.

"I did," Chuck said, as she and Ned slid into the booth. Olive quickly sat back down now that the other two were there. Ned shifted uncomfortably.

Emerson scowled. "Why are you going around telling other people my business?"

"Olive isn't just 'other people'," Chuck defended. Olive nodded defiantly. "It's not really a big deal. We were talking about it the other day and I just mentioned that you had been hired by one of the victims."

"Hired, without pay, until you find the culprit," Olive said sympathetically. "Poor Emerson."

"Poor my--,"

"Hey, all," Jonah said, sliding into the booth next to Olive. Emerson grunted as he was pushed further down the seat. Ned shifted uneasily again as Jonah placed his arm on the back of the seat behind Olive.

"Do you mind?" He asked, annoyed.

"No," Jonah said with a shrug making Chuck and Olive giggle.

"Well _I_ do," Emerson replied, making Ned smirk slightly.

"Okay," Jonah said, before turning his attention back to the entire table. "So what are everyone's plans for New Year's Eve?"

"Um, packed full," Ned said quickly before anyone could respond. "Super busy. Don't know what to do--,"

"Ned don't lie," Chuck said interrupting his sudden rambling.

"Who's lying? I'm not lying."

Chuck shook her head but smiled. "We're not doing anything, why?"

"I was thinking we could have a party," Jonah explained.

Chuck's face brightened "That's a--."

"Like all of us?" Olive asked, her face quickly contorting into a look of horror and panic.

"We're not really party people," Ned said quickly. "We're more of a stay at home and sit around and be boring type of people."

"Speak for yourself," Chuck said. "That sounds perfect!"

"Doesn't have to be anything huge," Jonah spoke again. "Just the five of us. Hanging out, ringing in the New Year together."

"We're in," Chuck said, motioning between her and Ned. "And we'll host."

"No we won't!" Ned said, panicked.

"Shush, yes we will."

"Olive and I will be there at nine," Jonah said, giving Olive's shoulder a little shake.

Her eyes widened. "No we won't…" She said nervously looking between Jonah and Ned and then back again.

"What about you Emerson?" Chuck asked, ignoring Olive with a sly smile.

Emerson gave a single laugh as Olive gave him a pleading look and Ned nodded vigorously. "As much fun as it would be to watch the four of you and what ever it is you got going on," he said, waving his hand. "I have plans tonight. So I'll pass." Emerson Codd did not tell them that his plans included sitting at home, knitting, a drinking (but only a little).

"Great, so it will just be the four of us," Jonah said, his usual smirk working across his face. "Kind of like a double date."

Olive's eyes widened and she looked to Ned; who, in turn, looked, horrified, at Jonah; who, in turn, looked at Chuck; who, in turn, looked right back. Jonah and Chuck smiled. Emerson Codd laughed.

* * *

It was eight fifty-six and thirty seconds on the night of New Year's Eve. Olive was furiously pacing her apartment. 

"Going to wring his neck!" She muttered under her breath, holding her hands out and shaking. "What does he think he's playing at?" She kicked her couch. "Ouch!" She exclaimed, hopping up and down on her good foot and rubbing the one she had just hurt.

There was a knock on her door.

She grumbled and marched over to it, throwing it open with a resounding thud.

"What?" She grumbled upon seeing Jonah standing in the hall, a bottle of champagne in his hand.

He chuckled. "Not happy?" He said, pulling Olive into the hall, and shutting her door.

Olive guffawed and then made a face. "Do I look happy?"

"Positively overjoyed."

"You're doing this to smite me," She grumbled as Jonah put his hand on her lower back and guided her the few steps to Chuck and Ned's apartment.

Jonah chuckled. "I am not. And don't you mean I'm trying to spite you?"

"No. You're smiting me because of your spite for me," she said indignantly crossing her arms and waiting for Jonah to knock on the door.

"I neither smite you nor spite you."

"Yes you do…you…you smitey smiterson!"

Jonah knocked. "I don't know why you're so upset."

"Because this is just---just---,"

"A group of co-workers and friends getting together to celebrate the New Year."

"What about the outstanding factor? A very tall outstanding factor…"

Their conversation was interrupted as Chuck pulled the door open.

"Hiya," she said brightly.

"Brought the _champagne_," Jonah said in a horribly fake French accent.

"Thanks," Chuck said, standing aside to let the too in. Jonah motioned for Olive to enter before him. She did so, grabbing Chuck by the arm and pulling her towards the kitchen.

"We need to talk," she said, making Jonah chuckle as he let himself in and closed the door.

* * *

"What?" Chuck asked, putting the champagne in the refrigerator to chill then turning her full attention to the other woman. 

"Do you really think this is a good idea?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The four of us…in the same room?"

"What's so bad about that?"

"Chuck," Olive said shaking her head. "Think about it. It's you, Ned…_me…Jonah._"

"Ah," Chuck said, nodding. "Got it. But I don't think it's anything to get worried about."

"Chuck, ever since Ned found out about me and Jonah he's been acting all…weird. And uncomfortable."

"Ned is always uncomfortable," Chuck said with a small smile, getting one from Olive as well.

"It's…I dunno…awkward. Ned knows I," Olive paused and looked at Chuck who had her brow raised. "Have feelings for him--,"

"You still have feelings for Ned?" Chuck asked quietly.

Olive shrugged. "They don't exactly go away over night."

"But you're trying."

Olive snorted. "Obviously. And Jonah knows I have feelings for Ned. But I'm dating Jonah--,"

"So you obviously have feelings for Jonah," Chuck interrupted.

Olive waved her off, "And now Ned knows I'm dating Jonah."

"So you're confused?" Chuck asked, not exactly what Olive was getting at.

"Yes! Exactly. And frustrated and driving myself crazy. And situations like these don't make it any easier. Ned doesn't help it with all of his looks."

"Looks?"

Olive made a series of faces that resembled Ned in states of surprise, shock, confusion, and discomfort; all of which made Chuck laugh.

Olive let out a small giggle a shook her head. "You know, force once, I'm actually trying to get over this mess that I always make for myself."

Chuck smiled. "I think that's it, though, Olive."

"What is?"

"Jonah knows you're trying and he's trying to help too."

Olive sighed, "Right."

"Come on," Chuck said, grabbing Olive by the shoulders and guiding her out of the kitchen. "Let's go join the men folk."

* * *

Olive Snook shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Her hand was clasped in Jonah's, their fingers entwined. It was new to her. They had had dinner every night for the past three days, not to mention their two dinners prior to that. Or four, Olive figured, as Jonah was so keen to remind her. The physical contact between the two was slowly increasing. Jonah would hold her hand while they walked to dinner and back. His hand always seemed to find her back when they walked through a door. Throughout dinner there was the occasional tap or light touch. And then there was the, now infamous, kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. 

Olive sipped her wine and looked around the room. Chuck and Ned were sitting in chairs, Ned's eyes seemed focused on Olive and Jonah's entwined hands. She quickly went to pull her hand away, but Jonah held tight; giving her petite hand an encouraging squeeze. For a reason unknown to Olive, and the cosmos, Olive felt herself relax.

Ned coughed. Jonah sipped his wine and smirked at Olive through the glass. Olive rolled her eyes.

"So," Chuck said, standing up. "Who wants to play a game?"

* * *

"Go." 

Olive held up six fingers.

"Six words," Chuck said.

Olive fisted her hands, holding her left in front of her mouth and moving her right in a circle next to her temple.

"Movie."

Olive nodded then held up one finger.

"First word."  
Olive nodded once more and dropped to her hands and knees, pawing around on the floor. She pretended to lick the back of her hand and then used said hand to rub her ear.

"Dog!" Chuck yelled and Olive shook her head. The blonde arched her back. "Cat!" Chuck yelled again.

Olive quickly nodded and jumped to her feet, she held up four fingers. She licked her finger and then touched her hip before pulling her hand back quickly and shaking it.

"Hot!" Chuck exclaimed, bouncing in her seat.

Olive clapped and smiled.

"One minute." Jonah said, staring at the stop watch he held in his hand.

Looking slightly panicked, Olive held up five fingers. "Fifth word," Chuck said, nodding.

Olive pointed to her ear.

"Sounds like…"

Olive twirled in a circle.

"Twirl?"

Olive shook her head and moved in the circle again.

"Spin?"

Olive stopped and nodded jumping up and down.

"Uh…spin…shin?…no?...twin?...no?...bin?"

"Thirty seconds."

Olive made the cat motion again, then the hot motion and then spun. Holding her hands out.

"Cat…hot…oh! Oh! Oh!" Chuck jumped up. "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof!" She exclaimed, pointing at Olive.

"Yeah!" Olive yelled, running over to Chuck. The two woman gave each other a high five and sat down.

"Alright boys," Chuck said, pulling the score sheet towards her and marking for a tally under her and Olive's names. "Six to five. You've got one more chance to tie, or we win."

Olive wiggled her fingers and Ned and Jonah and stuck out her tongue briefly. "Bring it on," she said with a slight tang.

"It's already been brought," Jonah said.

Ned picked up his card and looked at it. "Uh, maybe we should forfeit," he said, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

"Come on, Ned, we can't give up now."

"Let's see the card," Chuck said, holding out her hand.

The card was a small one, so Ned shifted slightly and held the card out to Olive. Giving Chuck a curiously look, Olive took the card. Chuck smiled sadly. Olive looked to Jonah who was looking more than confused. Olive shrugged before looking at the card.

The awkward moment was quickly broken when Olive read the card and let out a loud laugh.

"What?" Chuck said, grabbing the card and pulling it so she could see. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Oh, come on Ned, that's an easy one."

"But I'm no good at this game, I didn't even want to play it in the first place," he said, though he made his way around the coffee table and standing before everyone else.

"That's why I'm on your team," Jonah said confidently.

"You got stuck with me, more like it," Ned mumbled.

Chuck and Olive sniggered and high-fived again.

"Can we get on with this? I want to win," Jonah said.

"Tie," Chuck corrected.

"Competitive much?" Olive asked teasingly. Jonah waved her off and focused on Ned.

"Ready?" Chuck asked.

Ned sighed then nodded.

"Go."

The Pie Maker made the movie signal.

"Movie."

Ned nodded and held up four fingers.

"Four words."

Ned nodded and held up one finger then held his pointer finger and thumb close together.

"The first word is small….The?"

Ned nodded. He held up two fingers then pointed to his ear.

"Second word sounds like…"

Ned shook his head and then pointed to his ear again.

"Sounds like?"

Ned shook his head and waved his arms. Then pointed directly at his ear.

"Sounds like?"

"One minute," Olive warned.

"Sounds like…? Come on Ned!"

Ned simply pointed to his ear again.

"Sounds like?!"

Ned bit his lip and looked awkwardly at the girls. "Forty-five seconds," Olive warned again.

"Do it," Chuck laughed.

Ned shook his head.

"Ned," Jonah warned.

"Just do it," Chuck said again, making Olive giggle. The Pie Maker glared at the two.

"Thirty seconds," Olive said between silent fits of laughter.

"Ned!" Jonah nearly yelled.

Ned sighed, defeated, and went to the far corner of the room. Squaring his shoulders, in the most manly way possible he held his arms out and turned in a full circle.

"What?!" Jonah asked, jumping to his feet.

"TIME!" Olive and Chuck yelled at the same time, jumping up and giving each other a high five.

"I believe that means we win," Chuck said, turning to Olive who made the loser sign at the Pie Maker and Jonah.

Jonah palmed his forehead. "What was I guessing?"

"The Sound of Music," Ned sighed. He bit his lip as Chuck and Olive suppressed their laughter.

Jonah looked at the Pie Maker eyes wide, before smirking. "You could really give Julie Andrews a run for her money," he said, finally, making Chuck and Olive fall to the couch with laughter. Ned laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

* * *

"There you go," Jonah whispered to Olive, handing her a flute of champagne. It was five minutes till midnight and the New Year. 

Olive took the flute with a quiet "Thank you."

"Not so bad, huh?" Jonah whispered again, tilting his head towards Chuck and Ned, who walked into the room.

Olive scoffed. "Oh sure, but we were playing a game. I get focused."

"I'll say," Jonah said, playfully. Olive hit his stomach.

"But before? And even now…" she shook her head.

"Minor details."

"I--," Olive started then stopped.

"You…?" Jonah asked, nudging her arm.

"I am trying, you know?"

Jonah chuckled quietly. "I know," he said, giving Olive a small look before turning to the television. "Hey, all, this is it," he said, pointing at the live news-broadcasted countdown.

Ned and Chuck walked over and the four friends stood in front of the small set.

Olive shifted uncomfortably, standing between Jonah and Ned. Jonah grasped her hand and pulled her attention out of herself. She looked to her left and caught his gaze. She knew that look. She had seen it times before. The night of their first date, mere days ago in The Pie Hole kitchen. So intense, so sincere. Hypnotyzing.

Olive was vaguely aware that Chuck and Ned were counting down the last minute of the year. She was vaguely aware that _she_ was counting, her lips moving, but no sound coming out. The only thing she was aware of was that she was being forced to choose to look between Jonah's eyes and his lips. A horrible decision. His eyes were so captivating. But his lips…Olive some how felt herself take a step forward.

Jonah's hand moved up her arm and rested on her upper back. Olive reminded herself to breath.

"Five…" Jonah stepped closer, Olive took in a deep breath. "Four…Three…" Olive felt like she was drowning. "Two…" Jonah's hot breath hit her lips and a burning sensation flared through her body as the final second of the New Year ticked away. "One," Jonah breathed, before closing the remaining distance and placing his lips lightly upon Olive's.

Olive felt her knees give out beneath her and she took a step forward, her hand resting on Jonah's cheek as he slowly pulled away. "Happy New Year," Jonah whispered against Olive's swollen lips.

Olive smiled.

From where they stood, the Pie Maker and the girl named Chuck watched as Jonah and Olive shared a traditional 'First Kiss of the New Year'. Both longed that they could do the same with the person standing right next to them. Knowing it would never be, the two turned to each other and toasted the other, whispering "Happy New Year" and smiling.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there you have it! I seem to be on an updating spree…but unless I update tomorrow, which I don't think I will, then this is the last update before I go to school…but you never know! 

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!!

Until next time!  
The Lonely Goatherd


	11. Chapter Eleven: The Good

**Disclaimer: **I most definitely don't own Pushing Daisies…

**Author's Note: **So I thought I wouldn't be updating again this week, but being home sick today, I decided to change that fact…so here's the next chapter!!

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Eleven: The Good**

Olive Snook shivered as a gust of wind blew through the chilled air of the morning. A thick layer of snow covered the ground and Olive tried not to slip on the iced sidewalk. Clumsily, she clutched the door of The Pie Hole, trying to keep her balance and unlock the door at the same time. She was able to open the door just as she lost her footing, falling into the warmth of the pie shop than the chilly ground outside.

Olive sighed, contentedly, and unwrapped her scarf, taking the garment and placing it on the bar counter before pulling off her coat and her hat and doing the same thing. She checked her watch: 7:30. Thirty minutes until The Pie Hole opened for the day, plenty of time to rest and make herself a cup of coffee. Ned and Chuck wouldn't be down for another fifteen minutes and today was Jonah's day off. Olive smiled and walked over to the coffee machines—made sure they were set—and turned them on. She ran her hand across the marble counter top and yawned, letting her thoughts wander to hours before:

_Olive yawned and looked at her watch: 3:00 am. _

_"Tired?" Jonah asked, giving her shoulder a squeeze._

_Olive shrugged and wrapped her arm around his waist, and letting the warmth radiating from his body fill her. "It's three in the morning," she said._

_Jonah chuckled. "And you have to be at work in five hours."_

"Not all of us have tomorrow off," Olive replied, starting to feel a little drowsy.

_"You could always play hooky," Jonah whispered mischievously._

_Olive pinched Jonah's side but didn't say anything, letting her eyes fall closed; allowing Jonah to lead her as they walked._

_The man laughed quietly. "Are you falling asleep on me?"_

_"You're boring," Olive offered with a shrug._

_Jonah smiled. "I am not."_

_"Jonah, you've been walking me in circles in the cold-early morning for two hours."_

_"Perhaps I just like spending time with you."_

_Olive yawned and Jonah could tell it was fake; she tried to suppress her smile. _

_"Come on, let's get you home," Jonah said, placing a small kiss on the top of Olive's head and leading her towards her apartments. _

_Olive allowed herself to smile._

The bell above the front door jingled, bringing Olive out of her reverie.

"We're clos—oh, it's you."

"Good morning to you too," Jonah said, walking further into the restaurant. "You sound _thrilled_ to see me."

Olive shrugged and poured herself a cup of coffee, watching Jonah watch her over the steam coming from the cup.

"Didn't get enough sleep?" Jonah asked, pulling her around the counter.

"Obviously," she said, taking a greedy drink from her mug.

In one swift movement Jonah picked Olive up and placed her on top of the counter.

"Would you put me down?" Olive said, shifting forward, ready to jump down.

"No," Jonah replied, placing his hands on the counter on either side of her.

"Don't you have today off?" She asked dryly, when she realized Jonah wasn't letting her down.

"Yes."

"And you're here because?..." Olive motioned her hand in the air, waiting for Jonah to answer.

"I'm here," he explained, taking her mug out of her hand and placing it on the counter, "To do this." With that said, Jonah began to close the distance between the two of them.

Olive held her finger to his lips, stopping him. "What are you doing?"

"I was about to kiss you," Jonah said, against her finger.

"You can't do that here," she whispered harshly.

Jonah stood back slightly. "I can't kiss you here?"

"Someone might see," Olive whispered again, shaking her head.

Jonah looked to his left and then his right. "Yes, you're completely right. The ghost sitting in the corner booth is staring at us," he whispered conspiratorially.

Olive rolled her eyes. "You know what I---oomf."

Before Olive could register what happened, Jonah's arms were around her, his lips on hers. She gasped and immediately melted, instinctively sliding her hands up his arms, around his neck, and threading her fingers through his hair. Jonah smirked into the kiss when Olive pulled him closer; earning him a pinch on the neck when he did so.

"Ahem," Someone coughed from the doorway.

Olive pushed Jonah away and the man turned.

The Pie Maker and Charlotte Charles stood in the door way, Ned's eyes were wide while Chuck's face was lit in a smile.

"Are we interrupting anything?" Chuck asked cheekily.

"No!" Olive squeaked, her voice jumping an octave as a blush covered her cheeks.

"Heh," Ned said as Chuck laughed quietly.

"Well, I should get going," Jonah said. "Don't want to get in your way today when I won't be needed. Bye," He finished, giving Olive a brief kiss and working his way through Chuck and Ned who were blocking the door; Ned refused to move out of shock, Chuck refused to move out of amusement.

"Jonah!" Olive called after the man, even as he left the building. "You forgot to help me down!"

* * *

The Pie Maker had many problems.

He hated change. He stammered when nervous or uncomfortable. He was almost always nervous or uncomfortable. He didn't like being touched by people or having people invade his personal space; a trait he blamed on his special gift of bringing the dead back to life with a single touch. But more presently, and precisely at this moment, the Pie Maker had a problem with one Jonah Burke.

"I don't like him," Ned said, pacing back and forth in kitchen of The Pie Hole.

"What?" Chuck asked, licking her finger clean of jelly as she put some on her toast.

"Jonah," Ned whispered, so Olive, who was in the adjoining dining room, couldn't hear. "I don't like him."

Chuck looked amused. "Why not?"

"Because he's so," Ned waved his arms in the air. "There. He's always there. And here. And around."

"He works here, Ned," Chuck said, trying not to laugh.

"That's not what I mean. He's like a fly that you can never get with the fly swatter."

"You've tried to hit Jonah with a flyswatter?"

"Chuck," Ned said exasperated as her stopped pacing, placing his hands on the counter and facing the woman.

"Just asking," Chuck replied with a shrug.

The Pie Maker sighed and bowed his head. "And he's so…touchy feely. _They're _so touchy feely."

"Ah," Chuck said, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms. She turned and looked at Olive, who was busy setting up the chairs in the other room. She turned back to Ned. "Well _they_ are dating, Ned."

"Well…" Ned looked around the kitchen, as if the sink or the oven would give him the answer he was looking for. "So," he finished lamely when no answer was provided. "We're not touchy feely."

Chuck rolled her eyes. "That's because we can't be touchy feely. In case you forgot…" Chuck touched her own arm, and then fell forward on the table, pretending to die. "Kind of not possible," she said, standing back up again. "Besides, most people consider us to be attached at the hip, figuratively speaking, not literally speaking."

Ned sighed again. "Well, yes but…" His voice trailed off again and Chuck rose her brow. "I just don't like him."

Chuck watched in amusement as Ned began to pace again, his arms crossed tight across his chest. "You want to know what I think?" She asked after a moment.

"Hm?"

"I think you're jealous."

Ned immediately stopped pacing and turned to face Chuck, his eyes wide. "I'm not jealous."

"Sure you are."

"No I'm not."

"Are too."

"Are not."

"Are too."

"Chuck."

"Ned."

The two were silent, staring the other down, waiting to see who would speak first.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are…and why shouldn't you be?"

"What?" The Pie Maker asked, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"Well, think about it. Olive has been fawning over you for six years."

"Olive doesn't fawn. There has never been any fawning."

Chuck rose her brow.

Ned sighed. "Fine, Olive fawned," he said, shaking his head. "But note the –ed. Fawn_ed_. Fawn_ed_. As in, in the past."

"And there in lies your problem!" Chuck smiled triumphantly. "For years Olive has fawned over you and now she's not because she's found someone new to fawn over. Therein making you jealous." She finished triumphantly, as if she had just worked an equation out on a blackboard.

Ned's jaw dropped. "I'm not jealous!"

"Denial," Chuck sang, taking a bite of toast.

"You know," Ned said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm a little uncomfortable talking about this with _you_."

Chuck shrugged. "Just because I say you're jealous, doesn't mean that I am okay with the fact that you are. Even makes me a little jealous. But I can see why you would be, and I suppose that's all that matters."

The Pie Maker didn't say anything, instead, choosing to stare at Chuck.

"Look, you've spent the better part of six years getting a flattering attention from Olive. And now, she's giving that same attention to someone else," Chuck explained again, more amused than anything else. "You just never realized how much you liked the attention. Really, it's enough to make anyone… 'not jealous'." She finished, using air quotes.

"I'm not jealous," Ned said again. "I—I'm suspicious."

Chuck laughed lightly. "Call it what you want Ned," she said, standing. "I'm going to go help Olive."

Without another word—and a knowing smile—Charlotte Charles left the Pie Maker alone to his thoughts.

* * *

"Achew!!!"

"Did you just sneeze in my pie?" Olive asked, her hands frozen in midair, ready to place the top crust over the tasty desert.

"Sorry, Olive," Chuck sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Olive wrinkled her nose.

"Chuck, are you okay?" She asked when the brunette sneezed again.

Chuck shrugged. "I think I'm coming down with something," she managed to say before sneezing once more.

Olive placed the dough down and wiped her hands clean before feeling Chuck's forehead with the back of her hand. "Chuck, you're burning up," Olive warned. Chuck sneezed again, managing to hit Olive in the process. The blonde took a cautious step away from the other woman.

"That would explain the…," she said, motioning to herself. "Awfulness."

Olive nodded. "Why don't you go home and rest?" She offered.

Chuck shook her head, "It's really busy out there," she said, motioning to the dining area, where more and more customers began to pile into seats. "I can't leave you and Ned to suffer by yourselves."

Olive laughed lightly. "Ned and I managed by ourselves for years," she said, walking and getting Chuck's coat, forcing it onto her. "Besides, I have a feeling you'll be of more help resting at home then putting the customers in danger of sickness." Olive wrapped Chuck's scarf around her fevered head. "Go out the back door, I'll let Ned know you left."

"Thanks Olive," Chuck said with a sniffle. "Don't let him come up and check on me."

"Why try, you know he's going to want to," Olive supplied.

"Tell him it's too busy and I'll be fine," Chuck paused and then added: "And if he does, tell him I'll cough and sneeze all over his stuff."

Olive smirked. "Will do, now go," she said, shooing Chuck with her hands.

Chuck smiled appreciatively and opened the back door that led to the kitchen and left, a loud sneeze echoing behind her.

Laughing, Olive picked up the, recently, ruined pie and walked to the trash. Carefully, she dumped the contents of the tray into the can, scraping away any remnants of pie.

"Hey Chuck can you---oh Olive," Ned said, stopping when he saw Chuck was not in the room. "Have you seen Chuck? I thought I saw her--,"

"She just left," Olive explained, dropping the empty pie tin in the sink. "She wasn't feeling well."

Ned's face immediately looked panic stricken. "Is she alright?"

Olive nodded. "Felt like she had a fever and she kept sneezing. She'll be fine, just a little cold," she explained with a wave of her hand.

"I should probably go check on her," Ned said, already taking off his apron.

Olive shook her head and held out her hand, making Ned stop. "I was informed to tell you that if you do so she'll sneeze and cough all over your stuff. She said it's too busy for you to leave me by myself."

Ned's mouth fell open.

"Don't give me that look," Olive said, holding her hands up, "I'm just relaying the message."

"But I really should go--,"

"Ned, she'll be fine. All she needs is some rest and she'll be good as new soon enough."

Ned sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am," Olive said, walking over to the counter and leaning her forearms on it.

The Pie Maker and the Waitress stood in the kitchen as an uneasy silence slowly began to engulf them.

Ned simply stood, looking at any place that wasn't Olive. Olive, on the other hand, examined her nails, biting them slightly. It was the first time the two had been left alone around one another since Christmas Eve. Olive felt her heart rate quicken and squirmed nervously.

It was uncomfortable and awkward.

"This is awkward," Ned said, uncomfortably.

"It's not awkward," Olive lied. "It's only awkward if we make it awkward," she finished, knowing that would never be the case. She nodded, trying to make herself seem confident.

"Right," Ned agreed, his voice wavering slightly.

They stood.

Olive drummed her fingers on the counter.

Ned coughed.

Olive shifted left.

Ned shifted right.

Olive inhaled deeply.

Ned exhaled loudly.

"This is awkward," Olive finally said, looking at Ned.

"Yeah."

"Right."

"So I'm just gonna--,"

"Yes, and I'll—,"

"Right."

"Good."

Olive quickly left the kitchen as Ned crossed to the sink in three quick strides, picking up a plate and beginning to scrub it; even though it was already clean.

* * *

As it has been described before, Olive Snook often felt there was an orchestra in her heart. In the past, the orchestra only spilled forth when she was sad or heartbroken. Usually both, but sometimes either or. In those rare events where she could not control the song from bursting from her heart Olive would sing of sad times and lost loves. And though she sang, now, and the song sounded full of wishing and longing; to Olive, the prayer in the song was well on its way to being answered.

The Pie Hole was closed and Ned had left long ago to make sure Chuck was feeling better. Olive was by herself, wiping down the tables, taking her time, allowing her song to fill her soul.

"There's a somebody I'm longing to see…I hope that he, turns out to be…someone who'll watch over me…" Olive twirled slightly to the next table. "De da dum dee dum dum dum duh dum. La dee, dee da." Olive spun in a wide circle over to the counter and began to wipe it down. "Won't you tell him please, mm hm de dah dum…Follow my lead, oh, how I need…Someone to watch," the bell above the door jingled. "over me."

Olive felt warm arms wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against an equally warm chest. "Hey," Jonah whispered in her ear, before leaning around her and placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Hiya," Olive whispered, smiling.

* * *

Olive liked to imagine that everything in the world was good. That every person and everything had a heart of gold; pure and clean, wonderful and beautiful. She liked to believe that even though a veil of darkness always loomed nearby, everything at the beginning and the end was pure and kind.

Olive knew it was optimistic. She knew it was wishful thinking. She knew that nothing in this world was perfect. That everything was, in all reality, far from it. But for brief moments of time Olive allowed herself to believe that it was true. Perhaps not perfect, but as close to perfect as it could get. That, at some points in life, nothing could ever go wrong; because it was cosmically impossible to do so. And as Olive sat across from Jonah at dinner she allowed herself to get lost in that feeling.

Everything was fine and the world worked in harmony…for now.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, there you have it! Um...I know I keep saying that this is probably the last update of the week...and this time i think it will be true...unless I'm still sick tomorrow and call into work again...cause then I'll probably write...so who knows...!

Thanks to anyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it!

Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd


	12. A Suspiciously Perfect AnnaMonthAversary

**Disclaimer:** I don't know Pushing Daisies…wish I did…but I don't…

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Twelve: The Suspiciously Perfect Anna-Month-Aversary**

"What are you doing?"

Olive looked up to see Jonah standing before her, a bemused smile on his face. She blushed.

"Nothing," she said, quietly.

"Right," Jonah said, making the word two syllables. "Because, this--," He picked up a couple of pieces of paper off the counter and held them up. "Is nothing." Olive shrugged. "Why did you cut out this wonderful display of flowers and what you are doing with them?" Jonah asked again.

Olive sighed. "Fine," she said, taking the pieces of paper that Jonah had. "I decided that I'm going to plant a small garden out on my balcony. So I'm using pictures of flowers and mix and match them to see what combination I like best."

Jonah tapped his nose with a knowing (and mocking) look, before laughing. "Only you would."

"Well it's a good idea!" Olive defended. "I mean, what if I had planted a gladiolas," Olive grabbed a paper gladiola and held it up. "With an aster," she held up an aster shaped paper. "They just don't work," she said, moving the papers together than pulling them apart, a couple of times.

Jonah looked at Olive as if she had three heads. "They're flowers, Olive. It's like, universally impossible for them to _not_ go together. That's what they do."

Olive rolled her eyes. "Men," she said, making Jonah laugh.

Jonah walked around Olive, so he was standing behind her, placing his arm on either side of the counter, looking over her shoulder.

"You know," Olive said, continuing in her trials and tribulations of finding the perfect garden. "If you're going to breath down my neck, you could help."

"What can my humble self do for you?" Jonah asked, dramatically.

"Mix and match," Olive said, waving her hands in the air for emphasis.

"How about a rose for the lady?" Jonah asked, grabbing the rose shaped paper and setting it before Olive.

"Don't be cheesy," Olive said, hitting his hand away, but smiling.

"Hey guys," Chuck said as she and Ned walked into The Pie Hole, her cheeks red from the cold morning air.

"Morning," Olive replied.

"What are you doing?" Chuck asked as Jonah picked up the carnation and chrysanthemum and held them in front of Olive's eyes.

Olive hit at Jonah's hands until he moved. "We're planning," she explained. "Well, I am, he," she pointed over her shoulder at Jonah. "Is being a nuisance."

"What is all this?" Ned asked, as he and Chuck stepped up to the counter to see exactly what Olive was doing.

"It's Olive's Garden," Jonah said with a shrug.

"I was using these pictures to help me pick what flowers I'm going to plant out on my balcony," Olive explained. "But enough of this for now." She began to pick up the scattered papers on the counter. "We've got a pie shop to open."

* * *

The Pie Maker was standing behind the bar-counter observing his restaurant. There were only four customers, currently, occupying tables. Digby was sitting by the door, waiting to welcome more customers. Olive and Chuck sat at a table in the corner, drinking coffee and talking about—well he didn't know what and he wasn't sure he would understand it if he did know. Emerson was in his usual booth reading his newspaper, a plate of rhubarb and a cup of coffee sitting on the table, at the ready. And Jonah was—

"Yes I know," Came a hushed voice from behind Ned. His ears perked up and he turned slightly. Jonah was standing in the kitchen, flush against the wall. It was obvious he was hiding. The telephone that hung on the wall was pressed tightly to his ear.

Intrigued, the Pie Maker took a nonchalant step closer to the window way. The step, meant to look casual came across as too casual; had anyone been watching, they would have called it suspicious.

"I'm working on it," Jonah said again, his voice in a harsh whisper. "Don't give me that. You just do your job and I'll do mine and everything will be fine." There was a long pause. "Stop worrying about me. Worry about your damn self so nothing is messed up. Yes. Fine. Whatever." And then he hung up, slamming the phone down on the receiver.

Eyes wide, the Pie Maker quickly stepped away from the window-way, trying to make it appear that he was busy. He failed as he fumbled with a sugar dispenser; he dropped it and sugar covered the counter.

* * *

"He's definitely suspicious," Ned said to Emerson.

"Mhm," Emerson absentmindedly agreed, still reading his paper.

Ned sat hunched over in the booth across from the private detective, watching Olive, Jonah, and Chuck talk across the room, over Emerson's shoulder.

"I overheard him having a suspicious conversation on the phone," Ned whispered, not taking his eyes off the trio.

"Yes," Emerson agreed.

"Emerson, you're not listening."

"I know."

Ned sighed and Emerson took a sip of coffee.

"I think it's suspicious," Ned continued. "Having a secret phone call in the corner of a kitchen, whispering and being all…secretive. It's suspicious. Right? What do you think?"

"You want to know what I think?" Emerson asked, folding his paper and setting it down.

Ned nodded and finally looked at the man sitting across from him.

"I think that you're crazy," Emerson supplied dryly, making the Pie Maker narrow his eyes. "I think that Olive used to be all goo-goo for you and now another guy has come along making her all goo-goo for him and you are not that new him. I think you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous," Ned whispered harshly and quickly.

"And I have two left feet," Emerson deadpanned.

"I'm not."

"Whatever. All I know is that I get enough of this romance crap with you and dead girl. And now you're throwing Olive into the mix…" Emerson shook his head and picked up his paper. "This is getting ridiculous."

"Emerson this is serious, I think Jonah is bad news."

"No, you want to know what is bad news?" Emerson asked, setting down his paper again. "The fact that I haven't had a case in over a week and a half. I've gotten nowhere with this Romance Rogue guy. And now," Emerson pointed to a headline in the paper. "The police are offering a reward as well, for anyone who can help with the case."

"There still isn't anything new on this guy?" Ned asked, picking up the paper, momentarily distracted.

"Nothing."

Ned exhaled loudly and placed the paper back on the table, before looking back to Olive, Jonah, and Chuck. The women laughed at something Jonah said. "Maybe he has some secret life we don't know about."

Emerson rolled his eyes and groaned. "Yeah," he said sarcastically. "Like, maybe, he's a world champion ballroom dancer or a circus performer."

Ned scowled.

"Look, I need to go, before you drive me further up the wall than you already have," Emerson stood from the booth, placing his hat atop his head and wrapping his scarf around his neck. "Try not to obsess too much," he said, before walking out the door, fully intending to go knit himself more money bags.

The Pie Maker just nodded and waved as Emerson walked away, never taking his eyes off of the trio on the other side of the room.

_

* * *

_

_Two Days Later…_

It was January Twenty-Fourth. A light snow was falling and Olive cursed the weather man for telling her that the chance of snow for the day was zero percent. "Typical," she muttered under her breath, brushing the snow off her coat as she walked into The Pie Hole. She smiled slightly at Ned, who stood behind the bar-counter. The Pie Maker nodded.

Shrugging off her coat Olive walked into the kitchen.

"Morning Olive," Chuck said, pulling waffles out of a toaster.

"Good morning, Chuck," Olive replied, hanging up her coat.

"So, do you have any special plans for today?"

Olive stopped and turned slowly, raising her brow. "Er—no. Why?" She asked slowly.

Chuck shrugged. "I was just wondering, you know, since it's January 24th."

"What's so special about January 24th?" Olive asked, sitting down next to Chuck and stealing one of the waffles.

"Well, you and Jonah started dating on December 24th," Chuck explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"So?"

"So?! Olive, that means it's your Anna-Month-Aversary!"

Olive laughed. "Chuck. It's been one month. That's hardly an achievement to celebrate. Especially when I'm concerned."

"But the first month is, like, the basis for any relationship. You can't celebrate a year without getting through one month, first."

"Chuck," Olive said, shaking her head. "I swear, sometimes you're more concerned about my love life than I am."

"Well one of us needs to be concerned about it."

The two friends giggled.

"So you're really not doing anything special?"

Olive shrugged and took a bite of waffle. "I am having him over to my place for dinner."

"Really?!" Chuck almost jumped out of her chair. Olive caught her elbow, steadying her.

"Yes, but it's merely coincidence. It has nothing to do with this Anna-Monthery-Hoppy-Hopper," Olive said, waving her arm around.

"Coincidence?" Chuck asked skeptically.

"Coincidence. I'm just tired of eating out or having him cook me dinner here. I thought I could at least return the favor."

"At your apartment?"

Olive blushed and nodded.

"Are you planning on…" Chuck's voice trailed, but her eyes conveyed the message she was asking.

Olive's blush deepened, spreading across her entire face, to her ears, and down her neck. She shook her head. "No---I mean I'm…I've _thought_ about it. But…no."

Chuck cocked her eye brow and tilted her head.

Olive coughed. "Well, I mean, it could…still happen. But I'm not planning on it." Olive took a big bite of waffle and concentrated on not choking.

Chuck laughed lightly. Olive looked around the kitchen, chewing her food and thinking. Once she had swallowed her mouthful she sighed, burying her face in her hands.

"What?" Chuck asked, through her own mouthful.

Olive shrugged. "I don't know. I just, I guess I never thought I would be sitting here talking about this."

"How come?"

"Well, I'm not exactly lucky when it comes to love. I thought I had struck out one time too many. It's almost too good to be true."

"Well, Jonah is a good guy, Olive," Chuck defended, patting Olive's back slightly.

Olive sat up straight, pulling her hands away from her face. "But that's just it. He has everything down to a science. He knows when to say the right thing. When he shouldn't say anything. What to cook for dinner. When to hold my hand. When to give me a hug. When I would rather have a kiss on the cheek instead of the lips. He's kind, he's sweet, he's annoying, he's funny, he's serious…" Olive's voice trailed and she shook her head.

"Well, he sounds, perfect," Chuck replied, not knowing what to say.

"Exactly," Olive said pointing. "Chuck he's--," she paused. "He's almost _too_ perfect."

* * *

Amy Thompson had always liked pie. So it was surprising that she was walking into The Pie Hole for the first time today.

The red-haired beauty walked into the quaint shop, letting the warmth of the room and the smells of pie fill her. Seeing no hostess to sit her, Amy walked to the counter and sat down, swinging her legs. She giggled slightly when she realized that lights hanging above her head were the shapes of cherries.

"Hiya," a petite blonde said, standing opposite her on the other side of the counter.

"Hello," she replied meekly.

"Can I get you anything?" The blonde asked. "Or would you like to see a menu."

"Um," Amy bit her bottom lip. "What do you recommend," she asked, having a feeling that the waitress would be well versed with the pies she served.

"Today, the Cinnamon Apple."

"That does sound good."

The waitress smiled. "It's the best around."

"I'll have a slice of that."

"Good," the waitress said, her smile widening. "I'll be right back."

"Um," Amy began, making the other woman pause.

"Yes?"

"Could I still see a menu? You know, just to look at?"

The waitress smiled again and nodded, digging under the counter and pulling out a menu. "Here you go, now I'll go get your pie."

Amy nodded as the waitress walked away. Amy looked through the menu briefly before looking around the restaurant. There was an elderly couple sitting in a corner booth. She smiled at them, even though they couldn't see her. How she wished she could find a romance to last through time, like they had obviously found.

"Here you go, sweetie." The waitress returned, setting a small plate, with a generous piece of pie, before her.

"Thank you," Amy said, feeling her mouth water at the sight of the pie. It smelled better than anything she'd ever smelled before.

"You're welcome. Can I get you anything else? Coffee, water?"

Amy shook her head.

"Alrighty. You just let me know of if you need anything."

Amy nodded. "Okay, thank you."

The waitress winked and Amy watched as she walked into the kitchen.

Sighing, Amy picked up her fork and examined the treat before her. Deciding to start small and savor the pie for as long as she could, she cut off a small piece and held it to her mouth; ready to begin eating. And that was when she noticed him.

Amy froze.

How had she not seen him before? He was standing almost directly across from her, clearing off a table on the left side of the room; since she was on the far right of the counter, he was in her direct line of sight. Her breath quickened. It had to be him. There was no way it couldn't be. He was…different…but…those…well, she would remember those anywhere. But, it just couldn't be possible, could it?

He looked up and their eyes met. The color drained from his face and it was obvious he recognized her. The panic-stricken look was confirmation enough. And that was proof. Proof that it was him.

Before Amy could blink, he was gone, running into the kitchen.

* * *

Olive looked up as Jonah strolled casually into the kitchen. "Hiya," she said, smiling.

"Hey," he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist. "What do you say we head out of here early? Maybe take a walk in the park before dinner?"

"Hm," Olive thought, absentmindedly patting Jonah's arm,

"It's not that busy," Jonah continued. "And we always close up for Ned. I'm sure he and Chuck can manage by themselves for once."

"Well," Olive said, turning and linking her arms around Jonah's neck. "Alright."

* * *

The elderly couple sitting in the corner got up and left, making Amy the only customer in The Pie Hole, but she paid no attention. She still sat, frozen, hand mid air, mouth slightly open, ready to eat pie. Her heart was beating at an incredibly fast rate as adrenaline pulsed through her; a dangerously fast rate.

"Hey Ned." The blonde waitress stuck her head through the window separating the kitchen and main room. "Jonah and I are going to take off now, okay?"

Amy snapped out of her daze enough to look at the woman. She then looked to said Ned, when he replied: "Okay, Olive, bye."

"Bye Olive, bye Jonah," a brunette sitting next to Ned said.

Ned and the brunette began to talk again, with a man sitting across from them, and Amy's hand remained frozen in the air.

The sound of a door closing in the kitchen was finally what she needed and she jumped to life. Her fork hit her plate, ricocheting and landing on the floor, her plate tipped and turned upside down.

"HEY!" Amy called, running towards the kitchen.

"Hey, you can't go back there!" Someone called after her. She paid him no mind.

Suddenly, without warning, Amy Thompson tripped and fell, the cold floor greeting her. She didn't get up.

* * *

Olive was quietly setting the table in her apartment. Having separated from Jonah and hour before to get ready, she was putting the final touches on dinner. Returning to the kitchen, she poured the waiting spaghetti noodles into boiling water. She had made the spaghetti sauce that morning, waking at an unholy hour to do so; and now it sat, simmering.

There was a slight knock on the door. She smiled, took off her apron, wiped her hands, and fixed her hair. Taking a deep breath she walked into the main room and opened the door.

She was met with the sight of Jonah, holding a movie in front of his face.

"_National Velvet_?" Olive asked, taking the movie.

"Neigh," Jonah replied.

Olive rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

"Gladly," he said, before kissing her.

* * *

"Please remind me why we're here. She just died. There was no murder involved."

"My pie killed her."

The Pie Maker, Charlotte Charles, and Emerson Codd stood at the City Morgue, looking at the red-haired woman on the table before them.

"Your pie didn't kill her," Chuck replied kindly.

"Though it is coincidental," Emerson supplied. Chuck hit his arm.

"Your pie didn't kill her," Chuck said again.

"Why are we here?" Emerson asked once more.

"My pie killed her--,"

"Your pie didn--,"

"She was sitting in my restaurant, eating a pie that I baked, when she jumped up, screamed, ran into my kitchen, and died," Ned explained. "The least I could do is apologize."

"Ned, I'll say it one more time. Your--."

Before Chuck could finish her sentence the Pie Maker marked his minute and touched the dead woman before them all.

The redhead jumped to life, sitting up on the table and looked at her companions. "I thought I was dead."

"You are," Emerson replied dryly.

"Well, more like, somewhere in between at the moment," Chuck added.

"Weren't you at The Pie Hole?" She asked, pointing at them.

"Yes," Ned said quickly. "I just wanted to apologize since my pie is what did you in."

"Oh your pie didn't do me in," the dead girl said.

"It didn't?" Ned and Emerson asked.

"Told you," Chuck replied.

"No." She shook her head. "I didn't even eat any of the pie."

"You didn't?" Ned asked, relief washed over him.

"Nope, but you know, I bet it was those shortbread cookies I've been eating."

"Shortbread cookies?" Chuck asked.

The facts were these:

Amy Thompson, twenty-seven years, three months, one week, six days, four hours, and twenty-two minutes old, had recently moved in with her mother. After spending three weeks there, and being driven to near insanity, Amy had come across a box of shortbread cookies. The box was in the back of the cupboard and Amy couldn't read the expiration date. It had either said the box was nine years old or two weeks new. Deciding that cookies couldn't exactly get old or dangerous, Amy began to eat two cookies a day.

A choice, it seemed, that had been a bad one. Coupled with her excitement at seeing _him_ at The Pie Hole, an event that had made her blood pressure sky rocket, the old cookies turned out to be a deadly treat.

"But if my pie didn't kill you why did you jump up and run into my kitchen screaming?"

"Because I saw him," Amy replied.

"Him?"

Amy nodded. "The man who ruined my life."

"What did he do?" Chuck asked, taking a step forward.

"Thirty-seconds," Ned warned out of the side of his mouth.

"Well, I loved him and I thought he loved me too. But then, one day I just woke up and he was gone. Took all of my money too."

"Are you talking about the Romance Rogue?" Emerson asked, his ears perking when he heard Amy talk. He took a step towards the table.

Amy nodded. "I was the third victim."

"Wait, you saw him in my restaurant?" Ned asked, looking slightly violated.

Amy nodded again.

"How do you know for sure? The police say he always changes his appearance."

"Well, his hair wasn't black and his goatee was gone. But his eyes were the same. They're the most beautiful shade of blue I've ever seen. I'd never forget them."

"What was his name?" Emerson asked, resembling a kid who had just received a bike for Christmas.

"Well, I couldn't really hear. But I'm pretty sure the little blonde who was with him called him Jonah--,"

Chuck gasped. Ned reached out quickly and touched Amy as the fifty-eighth minute of one minute ticked by.

"Jonah," Emerson said, thinking. "Why does that sound so—,"

"Ned," Chuck breathed, clutching the table so hard her knuckles turned white. The Pie Maker slowly looked to Charlotte Charles and her panicked face, already knowing the word she was about to speak. "Olive…"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Cue the dramatic "Daisies" music…well…I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! Let me know what you think! I don't know when I'll be updating soon, but hopefully it will be soon!

And yes I realize the Olive Garden joke was cheesy and cheap…but I had to…I really did…lol

Thanks to anyone who reviewed!!! It's muchly appreciated!!

Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd


	13. Chapter Thirteen: The Rogue

**Disclaimer: **I'm pretty sure you all know I don't own Pushing Daisies…

**Author's Note: **So I couldn't go _that_ long without updating and leaving you all were I did with the last chapter…so please, do enjoy…

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Thirteen: The Rogue**

"Oh Shit."

Emerson Codd's voice echoed around the morgue room as he, The Pie Maker, and Charlotte Charles stood in the cold room. Chuck's eyes were wide, Ned was breathing heavily, and Emerson was wondering how he always got involved in messes like these. The three friends looked at each other before reaching a silent agreement and sprinting from the room.

"She could be wrong, right?" Ned asked, as they clumsily made their way to the car.

"How can she be?" Chuck asked, her voice shaking slightly. "She was so positive that it had been him."

Emerson was muttering to himself, thinking aloud but not too loud.

"All she recognized was his eyes. That's hardly anything," Ned tried to rationalize.

"A woman in love always remembers her lover's eyes. It's what we do," Chuck answered, meeting Ned's eye quickly before looking away and saving herself from running into a wall. "I'd bet my bottom dollar she was right."

"What's Jonah's last name?" Emerson suddenly asked.

Ned's car was in sight and the three simultaneously ran faster.

"Why?" Ned asked just as Chuck supplied the answer: "Burke."

"Burke," Emerson whispered. "Burke. Jonah Burke. Jonah Burke…JB. How could I have not noticed it before?"

"What?" Chuck nearly screamed.

"The suspects in the case," Emerson said as they reached the car and all three jumped in. The private eye leaned forward in the back seat and the Pie Maker and Chuck turned towards him. "Jack Billington. Jeffery Bits. Jippy Bosworth. Jake Bott. All of their initials are JB."

"Jonah Burke," Chuck whispered.

"Why didn't I see it before?" Emerson asked himself again.

"We trusted him," Chuck said.

"And it would have simply seemed like a weird coincidence," Ned offered.

"And we trusted him," Chuck said again, bitterly. She huffed. "Ned drive!"

Both the Pie Maker and Emerson Codd jumped at Chuck's yelled request, but the Pie Maker did as he was told. The car lurched forward before speeding down the road.

"You think…" Chuck began, her voice trailing off. "I mean…Olive…she's going to be alright?"

"This guy hasn't been inflicting bodily harm to any of the victims," Emerson supplied, in a voice that heconsidered sympathetic.

"That's not exactly the kind of 'alright' I'm worried about," Chuck whispered, darkly.

* * *

Jonah sat in his chair across from Olive, studying the woman.

"Olive?"

"Hm?" Olive asked as she sucked up a spaghetti noodle.

Jonah chuckled quietly and reached across the table, wiping away the small remnants of sauce on her chin. She blushed.

"Do you have any regrets?" Jonah asked. "About life?"

Olive paused and stared at the man across from her, narrowing her eyes slightly. Quietly, she set her fork down and wiped her hands on her napkin. "No," she said, looking a little confused. "Why?"

Jonah shrugged. "If you had the opportunity to go back and change something, for the better, you wouldn't take it?"

Olive thought for a moment and took a sip of wine. "No," she said again. "I believe everything in life happens for a reason, good or bad, and we learn from our mistakes. And if what I take away from a bad situation makes me a better, stronger person, then it really wasn't bad to begin with."

Jonah nodded but stayed silent, taking a long drink of wine.

"Would you?" Olive asked when Jonah remained silent."Change anything?"

Olive stared intently at the man across from her as he looked just over her shoulder at the flowered wall behind her. It seemed like Jonah wasn't moving and Olive had to concentrate just to make sure he was still breathing. After a moment, Jonah's eyes shifted down until they were piercing Olive's. Her breath caught.

"Yes," Jonah finally answered.

"Why?"

Jonah sighed and put his arms on the table, leaning forward. "I want to know the things I've done before didn't happen in vein or because I made one lapse in judgment…" Jonah paused and seemed to decide if he should continue on. "…W—When I die. I want to know that there was at least someone out there, just one person, who forgave me and that simple forgiveness is enough."

"Hey," Olive said, reaching across the table and taking Jonah's hand in her own. "What are you going on about? What brought all this on?"

Jonah smiled sadly and shook his head. "A conversation for another time," he said, standing a pulling Olive with him while squeezing her hand. "Come on, we have a movie to watch."

* * *

Chuck found herself trying to control her breathing. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Her hands were shaking; she sat on them to stop it. She rocked slightly, willing Ned to drive the car faster even though they were going seventy in a fifty-five zone. She glanced into the back seat, Emerson was quietly whispering to himself; obviously trying to sort through any information about the Romance Rogue he knew. She looked to her left; Ned's head was looking straight-a-head, hands clutched tightly to the wheel as they sped forward.

Hesitantly Chuck took her left hand out from beneath her and placed it into the rubber glove set up by Ned. Lightly, she touched the hem of Ned's pants to get his attention.

The Pie Maker jumped slightly at the contact and looked to the woman next to him. Smiling sadly Ned took his right hand off the wheel and laced his fingers with Chuck's.

"It will be alright," he whispered, squeezing her hand lightly.

Chuck took in a deep breath and nodded lightly. Her nod slowly turned into shake as a single tear ran down her cheek. "If I had convinced you, you didn't have to apologize…we never would have found…" her voice trailed.

"Well, you were right, I didn't have to apologize," Ned tried lightly.

Chuck half-laughed, half-sobbed. "Yeah."

"What ever happens in the next hour, whether we're right or wrong," Ned whispered, "What ever. It will all be okay. Olive is going to be okay."

Chuck nodded though she didn't even believe it. "I guess you were right to be suspicious." She sniffled.

Ned smiled at her sadly before turning his eyes back to the road. "I wish I hadn't been."

* * *

Olive Snook felt happy.

She sat curled up into Jonah's side as he leaned into the arm of the couch. They sat in a contented silence as _National Velvet _played on the television before them.

Olive couldn't remember feeling so calm in her life. Well, in a long time. It was cold outside, a light snow was falling, and her apartment was freezing, but she was warm. She hummed appreciatively as Jonah began to trace lazy circles on her shoulder and arm. Lazily, she laced her fingers with his, resting their entwined hands on her lap.

Had it really been a month since Jonah dragged her to dinner, unwillingly? She smiled. It was a wonder how much life could change in such a short amount of time. In merely a matter of weeks Olive had gone from nearly hating Jonah to being in a relationship with him. Relationship. She paused. Was that what they had? She supposed it was, after all they had dinner together almost every night, spending almost every ounce of free time they had together. She hadn't had a boyfriend in so long she was beginning to forget what it was like. But that had to be it. Though she had never referred to him as her boyfriend. She shuddered slightly, and Jonah—mistaking the shudder for one of cold—pulled her closer.

The term boyfriend was so—she didn't know. She felt childish regarding it in the manner that she was now, but to a woman who had such bad luck with relationships---she had to view the term with a sense of regard. But she knew, if she were to introduce Jonah to her family, she would use such a term. But having no intent on introducing Jonah to anyone else she knew any time soon she shoved all thoughts of the word boyfriend, and anything that came along with it into the back of her mind.

Jonah placed a kiss on the crown of her head.

Olive shifted slightly so she could look up, still keeping her head against Jonah's shoulder. She was surprised to see that he was staring down at her, his familiar smirk plastered on her face. Bending, in a slightly awkward and uncomfortable position, Jonah placed a lingering kiss on Olive's lips.

At the contact all thoughts of her favorite movie, playing before them, disappeared from her mind. Reaching up slightly, Olive placed her hand on Jonah's warm cheek before pressing forward and reconnecting their lips.

Suddenly, without realizing she had moved at all, Olive found herself on her knees, pressing forward into Jonah as he pushed her back, making them recline onto the couch. Jonah shifted awkwardly, grunted slightly, and pulled out of their embrace; hovering over Olive's petite body. "Your couch is annoyingly small," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Olive rolled her eyes. "Did it ever occur to you that my couch is a perfectly normal size and you're just freakishly tall?"

"Impossible," Jonah replied, placing a lingering kiss on Olive's cheek.

Olive's breath skipped a beat at the simple gesture. "Just stop talking," she whispered, wrapping her arms around Jonah's neck and bringing him forward once more.

* * *

The Pie Maker's car came to a sudden halt, throwing all three of its occupants forward.

Emerson's head hit the thin plastic that divided the front seats. "Damn it! You saw that we were almost here, you couldn't have slowed down gradually?" He grumbled, rubbing his forehead.

Ned turned and looked at him sheepishly. "Sorry."

Chuck nearly ripped her seat belt out of the buckle. Ineptly, she pushed the door open and jumped out of the car; slipping on the icey ground outside. Neither waiting for the two men she was with to get out of the car nor caring if they did or not, Chuck ran to Olive's apartment.

* * *

Olive's breathing was coming in quick sudden gasps as Jonah deepened their kiss. She shuddered as a fiery heat spread through her body. She felt as if she was falling, but if she was, she never wanted it to end. Clumsily, her hands dug into Jonah's back, pulling him as close as their clothing and awkward position on the couch would allow.

* * *

Chuck paused at the top of the stairs; her breath coming in short-spastic gasps. She could see it. The door to Olive's apartment. In a _Twilight Zone_ turn of events, all other doors and barriers seemed to disappear and all that remained was Olive's. Chuck suddenly felt apprehensive. There was still the possibility that Amy Thompson had been wrong. That Jonah wasn't the man she claimed him to be. Chuck knew the only way to found out the truth was to walk down the hall; she wished she didn't have to. Whether Amy had been right or not didn't matter; Chuck didn't want to know the answer either way.

One option led to embarrassment and a thousand apologies on her part; while the other…she didn't even want to think what would happen then.

Suddenly, a force hit her from behind and she stumbled forward. Righting herself, she turned to see Emerson leaning forward slightly and clutching his side, Ned coming up the stairs behind him. Quickly, she sent a silent 'thank you' that it had been Emerson who ran into her instead of Ned.

"Did you have to stop?" Emerson asked bitterly.

Chuck didn't reply. She turned and ran down the hall, knowing all of their lives were about to change. Though, she couldn't figure out what that change would be.

* * *

Olive gasped as Jonah began to place feathery light kisses down her neck. A small ring of fire seemed to be left in each place he placed his lips. She squirmed and shifted up, pressing closer.

Suddenly, a loud banging sounded through the air; the place of origin being her front door.

"Wha?" She asked, feeling slightly drugged from her running emotions.

Jonah's head snapped to the door.

"OLIVE!" Chuck's voice yelled from the other side of the door.

Olive groaned in disappointment. Jonah began to sit back to allow her room to get up, but Olive grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back down. "She'll come back later," she whispered. Jonah smirked and kissed her again.

The banging continued. "Olive! I know you're in there! Open up right now! I need to talk to you."

Chuck's voice was distant, as Olive's body began to run on the feeling of Jonah's lips kissing a trail up her jaw.

"Olive, please, I need to talk to you."

Olive ignored the girl named Chuck as Jonah kissed across her collar bone to the other side of her throat.

"Olive open the door," Chuck's voice pleaded. "If you don't, I'm going to have Emerson break it down."

"There's no way in hell I'm going to break down some damn door," Emerson's voice sounded.

Emerson was with Chuck? What was going on? Jonah's lips were on hers again and she quickly lost interest.

"Fine," Chuck said, bitterly. "Ned will break the door down."

Olive tore her lips from Jonah's. "Ned?" She asked.

Jonah groaned and dropped his head to Olive's shoulder, kissing it through the cloth of her dress sleeve.

"Olive please don't make me break down the door," Ned's voice pleaded.

Olive shifted and made to get up. Jonah placed a slow, lingering kiss on her neck. "They'll come back later," he whispered. Olive simply nodded.

"Maybe they're not there," Emerson's voice could be heard saying.

"She told me they would be," Chuck defend, continuing to pound on the door. "OLIVE!"

_Go away. Go away. Go away._ Olive willed them with her mind.

"Fine," Chuck yelled. "You leave us no choice."

Then there was silence. Olive smiled and Jonah smirked, kissing her deeply.

Out of no where a loud thud sounded and the door shook slightly. Olive, regretfully, tore her lips form Jonah's again. "For heaven's sake," Olive muttered as she realized Ned hasd indeed thrown his body into her apartment door.

Jonah sighed.

"Let me get rid of them," Olive said, sliding out from her place between Jonah and the couch. Jonah nodded. She placed a light kiss on his lips.

Olive marched determinedly to the door, fixing her hair and righting her dress. She grasped the door handle tightly and nearly threw the door open. "What in the world do you---AH!"

The minute the door had cracked open a millimeter, Ned had pushed his way through, sending Olive into the wall.

"NED!" She yelled; watching, as the Pie Maker lunged at a shock-frozen Jonah, sending them both over the back of the couch and onto the floor behind it. "JONAH!" Olive took a step forward, but Emerson ran in, pushing her into the wall again. She couldn't blink as Emerson rounded the couch and pulled out his gun, aiming it at the two men before him. "EMERSON!" Olive couldn't remember feeling more confused in her whole life. She went to take another step, but Chuck suddenly grabbed her arms, holding her back. "CHUCK!" She yelled, struggling to get out of the other woman's grip. "Let me go!" She said, stamping her foot.

Charlotte Charles simply held on tighter.

"Don't move," Emerson's voice warned, holding his gun at the ready.

Olive continued to struggle as Ned stood, pulling Jonah with him, holding the other man in a vice grip. "Emerson, put that away," she growled.

"How about no," Emerson responded.

"You are in my apartment, Emerson," Olive warned. "Put your gun away."

"No," Emerson replied, extending the word longer than necessary.

"Ned, let Jonah go," Olive tried. The Pie Maker simply shook his head, too scared at the ferocity in Olive's eyes to speak. Jonah's eyes were wide as he wearily eyed Emerson's gun. Olive sighed. "Chuck," she whispered, angrily. "Let _me_ go."

"I'm sorry, Olive," Chuck whispered sadly.

"Would someone kindly tell me what is going on?" Olive's words were strained, making it easy to tell that she was trying her best not to scream.

A deadly silence filled the air as Chuck, Ned, and Emerson all looked to one another. Olive felt her stomach drop. What _was _going on?

Ned looked at Emerson and nodded his head. "Don't look at me," Emerson replied.

Ned turned to Chuck and pleaded some message to her that Olive couldn't decipher. Behind her, Chuck let out a distressed sigh. Olive turned her head slightly and caught the brunette's eye. "What is going on Chuck?" She whispered dangerously.

Chuck averted her eyes from Olive's piercing gaze, "Olive, he…he's the guy."

"What?" Olive sighed, exasperated, tired of playing whatever game she was forced to be playing at the moment.

"The guy that's been in the news…" Chuck stumbled as she spoke, her voice shaky with emotion. "The Rogue. The Romance Rogue," she whispered. "He's it."

"Who?" Olive asked slowly.

Chuck looked across the room and Olive followed her gaze, her eyes landing on Jonah. His eyes were wide as saucers. "Don't be stupid," Olive nearly yelled, pulling again on Chuck's arms.

"Olive, it's true," Ned spoke quietly from behind Jonah, making him twitch uncomfortably.

"I can't believe you're doing this," Olive muttered, struggling. "Jonah," she demanded, looking to him, asking him to help defend himself. He didn't.

Olive watched in horror as Jonah simply stared at her, eyes wide, mouth twitching, a light sweat breaking across his forehead. Something inside her suddenly felt wrong.

"Jonah," she whispered again, this time quietly pleading.

Jonah shook his head and looked to the ground. "I can't," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Olive froze; the color and blood draining from her face. Time seemed to freeze as she looked around the room. Emerson held his gun steady. Ned looked at the ground uncomfortably. A single tear rolled down Chuck's cheek as she bit her bottom lip.

Olive's head snapped back to Jonah. He slowly looked up and their eyes met. "Olive," he started speaking. "I—I never meant to hurt you."

At his words, Olive felt the last of her hope leave her body, making her feel lost. "No," she whispered disbelieving, shaking her head. "You're not."

Jonah nodded slowly. "I'm sorry."

Olive felt her knees give out beneath her and for the first time she was glad Chuck was holding onto her. The taller woman wrapped her arms completely around Olive's tiny frame, pulling her flush against her front. Olive wheezed and a dry sob escaped her lips.

"No," she said again, shaking her head at a dangerous pace. There was silence. Slowly, she looked up again, meeting Jonah's gaze. There was no room for argument. No room for doubt. Chuck's words had been right. She saw nothing but honesty. Honesty, she was slowly beginning to realize, for the first time.

"No," she gasped. "Y—y—you mean this whole time…?"

Jonah nodded sadly.

Her knees sagged again and Chuck pulled her closer to her chest. "I—I was just going to be victim number five?"

"No," Jonah was quick to defend.

"No?!" Olive suddenly yelled making them all jump. "Then what the hell--."

"You weren't my next…_target_," Jonah interrupted uncomfortably. "The Pie Hole was."

"The Pie Hole?" Olive, Chuck, Ned, and Emerson asked at the same time.

Jonah sighed. "I decided to target The Pie Hole." Ned's grip on his arms tightened making Jonah wince slightly. "Your money is fine," he explained. "I didn't get a chance to move it yet." Ned's grip tightened still. Jonah looked back to Olive and swallowed tightly.

"If you were robbing The Pie Hole," Chuck spoke quietly. "Then why were you seen keen on getting Olive?"

Jonah sighed and looked at Olive, answering the question as if she was the one who had asked it. "I was just…using you to make everyone else trust me," he spoke quietly.

Tears finally sprung to Olive's eyes. "U—using me?" She choked out, feeling as if she had been slapped. Being the victim of a robbery she could handle. After all, what was monetary value compared to other things like life; like integrity or pride? But being _used? _The word itself made her skin crawl. She felt dirty.

"So this whole time," she began, her voice wretched with tears. "Everything. Christmas Eve, the talks, dinners, _tonight_…you were just _using_ me?"

Jonah nodded and looked to the floor again.

Olive cried out and doubled over, Chuck held on tighter.

"Olive, I never meant to hurt you."

"What do you call this?!" She screamed.

Jonah tried to take a step back, but Ned held firm. "But I never meant to."

"Well you have!" Olive yelled again. "You have hurt me."

"But I never stole anything from anyone. Especially you," Jonah changed tactics, trying to calm the woman before him.

Olive suddenly froze, her face soaked and streaked with tears. She couldn't wipe her face clean, as Chuck pinned her arms to her side, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything. The only thing that seemed to be making any sense at the moment was the dull ache thumping in her chest. "Yes," she whispered bitterly. "You did," her voice was sad and broken. "_My heart_."

The room shifted uncomfortably. Jonah looked to the ground. Ned's eyes were wide. Emerson held his gun steady. Chuck pulled Olive closer. Olive's tears fell faster.

"Get. Out." Olive bit each word, whispering them with as much hatred her broken heart could muster. Jonah opened his mouth to reply. "I said leave!" Olive yelled her voice hoarse with emotion.

Olive looked pleadingly at Ned through her tears. The Pie Maker nodded and pushed Jonah forward, walking them to the door. Emerson followed, his gun never wavering. The door closed behind the three men, leaving Olive and Chuck by themselves.

Olive let out a strangled sob, somehow slipping through Chuck's tight grip, and falling to the floor. Charlotte Charles quickly followed, pulling Olive to her once more.

* * *

The Pie Maker watched as Jonah was placed into the back of a patrol car, his hands cuffed behind his back. The light snow was still falling, The Pie Hole sign was lit brightly, the stars were smiling above, and a gust of wind blew through the air.

Life was moving on around them, but to the Pie Maker the world seemed to have stopped.

Every solved case that he had been involved in with Emerson Codd had always left Ned with a sense of accomplishment. Knowing that he had brought closure to some person's life; finding their loved ones murderer. Knowing that a killer was behind bars, instead of loose on the streets. That a life had been brought to justice. It was a comfort, to know that he was helping in some way; any way that he could. In a way that only he knew how.

But now, standing outside his pie hope, watching another crook being put away, he couldn't find that familiar satisfaction. He only felt a sense of foreboding. A longing to turn back the clock. A wish that this one thing had never happened.

The Pie Maker watched curiously as an officer approached Emerson with a reward bag. The officer held the bag forward, offering it to the private detective. Emerson quickly shook his head, shaking his hands in front of him. The officer offered the money again and Emerson took a step back, saying something Ned couldn't hear. The officer nodded and retreated, getting into the patrol car with his partner and driving away. Emerson walked over.

"Not taking the money?" Ned asked, raising his brow.

Emerson shrugged. "I'll probably regret it tomorrow," he said, straightening his hat. "But—I couldn't. This one is…just hit too close to home." Emerson Codd shuddered.

The Pie Maker nodded. "Too close to home," he whispered, turning and looking to the one window that stood out among all others; knowing that, somewhere in the darkened apartment, a broken Olive Snook was crying.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well I hope you liked Chapter 13…even though it was sad. I don't know when I'll be updating, since tomorrow is the first day of school. But I hope to update tomorrow night or Tuesday night.

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews and for reading. I really appreciate it.

Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd


	14. Chapter Fourteen: The Aftermath

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still don't own Pushing Daisies…

**Author's Note:** Because Pushing Daisies just wouldn't be complete without a visit to our two favorite Aunts…

* * *

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Fourteen: The Aftermath**

Charlotte Charles did not like to cry. Nor did she like to see other people cry.

It was an awful thing. Too full of sorrow to be considered natural; yet in all its worth, the fact that it was so natural made the sorrow multiply.

The watery eyes. The running nose. The hiccoughing breaths. The shaking. The wheezing. The gut wrenching pain. It was enough to make anyone apprehensive really.

But in its own way it was beautiful. Beautiful because it showed that the human who was able to muster such tears was capable of emotion. Being capable of such emotion meant feeling. And what was life without feeling? It was a life without a heart. Without a soul. A life…without life.

But Chuck despised it still. Though someone could cry because they were happy, that instance was hardly often. When it came down to it crying was sorrow. And Charlotte Charles had dealt with enough sorrow in her life; too much for one woman to handle. But handle it she did, and she hated every minute of it.

The one thing Chuck hated more than crying was seeing other people cry. Knowing that a person was going through a pain so great they were reduced to a sobbing mess. Having some knowledge of what they were going through, what they felt; though never truly understanding. For the pain was all their own.

Yes, Charlotte Charles did not like to cry. Nor did she like to see other people cry. Yet, at this precise moment, she seemed to be doing both.

Chuck sat on Olive's bed, the small blonde clumsily gathered in her arms. Olive's sobs echoed off the quiet apartment walls as her fists grabbed clumps of Chuck's dress; holding on for dear life. Chuck slowly rocked her, trying to stop the shaking; it didn't work. She rubbed slow, soothing circles on Olive's back to stop her spastic breaths; it didn't work.

Olive Snook cried loudly. Charlotte Charles did not.

Silent tears fell down Chuck's cheeks, but she did nothing to stop them. She did not move to wipe them away or speak of their existence. It was not about her now. It was about Olive. It was about making sure the petite woman did not fall apart even more than she already had. And because it was so importantly about Olive, it inadvertently meant that it was a little bit about her too. An idea, which Chuck hated to even think about.

It was her idea; therefore making it her fault.

She had pushed Olive. She had been the one to insist that Olive 'get back out there'. That she get back on her horse and find another man. Chuck shuddered, a man that she, herself, wouldn't come and steal away, again. She had pushed and shoved and the blonde fought back. Olive had tried to close the door, but Chuck made it her personal mission to keep it open.

In the end, it didn't come down to how much Chuck had pushed or how much Jonah had insisted. It had, of course, come down to Olive. It had been her choice from the beginning. And though she had done so apprehensively she had made it.

That didn't stop Chuck feeling anymore guilty than she already did.

For a reason unknown to Chuck Olive let out a strangled sob and clutched to her harder.

Chuck wondered how they had come to this. Well, she knew _how_ she and Olive ended up in the position that they were. But she didn't know the how when it came to her and Olive.

_Oh please don't cry in front of me, we haven't reached that stage of our friendship yet._

Olive's words rang through Chuck's mind.

Their friendship was a strange one. Fitting under the strangest of circumstances; after all the circumstance was neither normal nor plausible. But it was. Chuck supposed that at the beginning Olive had hated her. She had always liked Olive, but Olive had been distant at first. And Chuck had slowly learned why. Yet through all the strangeness they slowly became friends; with restrictions. They didn't touch like other friends did. No playful smack when the other said something stupid. No hug hello or hug goodbye. Their friendship was slow and they simply hadn't reached that stage yet. And they probably never would have.

But in a tragic turn of events they had. Olive clung to Chuck as if she had cried on her shoulder hundreds of times before. And Chuck held on, taking on the role of 'a rock', as if she had done it for Olive a hundred times before.

They had reached a stage of friendship that many women sought. Sad it was, though, to be thrown into it…and under such tragic circumstances, too.

* * *

_One Week Later…_

Chuck had had enough. She had waited, giving Olive time to grieve on her own accord. But one week with no contact to the outside world was more than Chuck was willing to give. Olive would destroy herself and Chuck wouldn't watch it happen.

She pounded loudly on Olive's door. There was no answer.

"Olive!" She called, thumping on the door again.

No answer.

Chuck huffed and started using both of her fists to pound on the door. "Olive!" She yelled. "I know you're in there! Open the door."

Chuck hated the sense of déjà vu that ran through her.

"Olive! Please open the door." She continued to pound on the door, not letting up on her assault.

Down the hall Old Ms. McKomly opened her door and stuck her head into the hall. She sent a reproachful glare at the girl named Chuck.

"Sorry," Chuck whispered, hunching slightly and tapping on Olive's door as if it were fragile glass. "Olive!" She whispered loudly.

Old Ms. McKomly turned up her nose and closed her door.

The minute the old woman disappeared Chuck's tapping became pounding again, more insistent than ever. "Olive if you don't open the door right now _I_ will call the police!"

There was a grumbling and a small movement from the other side. Then silence.

Chuck raised her hand ready to start another assault when a click sounded through the air and the door opened slightly.

Half of Olive's face was visible. "What?" She asked. Her one eye that Chuck could see looked suspicious.

"I want to talk to you," Chuck replied, not realizing she had become slightly out of breath.

Olive's eye rolled but she didn't say anything as she opened the door completely and walked away; not waiting for Chuck to follow.

Chuck took a tentative step into the small apartment and closed the door. She looked around, fully expecting to see the place a mess (after all, that's how it always happened in the movies) but it wasn't. Across the room Olive quickly closed her bedroom door and stood in front of it like a guard. Chuck's brow rose knowingly. Olive shrugged.

Chuck had never seen the blonde look worse. She was in her pajamas, the green ones with horses; an apparent comfort clothing for Olive. Her hair was slightly messy, but still brushed through. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red. She fidgeted uncomfortably under Chuck's scrutinizing gaze and played with the hem of her shirt.

"You wanted something?" She asked. Her voice was so powerfully defensive that Chuck took a step back.

"You haven't left your apartment in a week, Olive," Chuck cut to the chase, knowing Olive wasn't one to toy with in the state she was in.

Olive shrugged again. "So?"

"Olive you—you have to talk to someone. Anyone." As she spoke Chuck swore she saw fire flash through Olive's eyes.

"Did it ever occur to you," the blonde spoke dangerously quiet as she took a step forward. "That I don't _want_ to talk to anyone or see anyone or have anything to do with anyone at all?"

Chuck swallowed nervously. "Olive, people can help. Just talk to us. Talk to me."

Olive froze and her jaw twitched. "Quite frankly, Chuck," she said. "You're the second to last person I want to talk to right now."

"Second to last?" Chuck asked before she could stop herself. "Who's fir--?"

Olive's eyes flared again cutting Chuck off mid-sentence.

Chuck bit her lip.

"Take no offense to my next statement," Olive said after a moment's silence. "But I want you to leave."

Chuck sighed. "Olive you can't lock yourself away like this."

"I can do what ever I want, Chuck. I'm a grown woman. So I suggest you accept that fact and let me wallow in my own self-pity."

"Olive," Chuck pleaded.

"Chuck," Olive warned.

The two women stared each other down. Olive was smaller. She was winning. Chuck opened her mouth to reply. Olive rose her brow. Chuck closed her mouth.

"Fine," Chuck said, sighing and shaking her head. She turned to the door and opened it, turning back to the smaller woman before walking out. "Just know that—well that---if you ever want to talk--," Chuck's voice trailed.

For a brief second Olive's hard exterior faltered. She bowed her head before standing tall again. She gave a curt nod.

Chuck sighed and left the apartment, letting the door close behind her with a soft click.

* * *

"She'll come around," Ned said, setting a cup of coffee on the bar-counter and sliding it towards Chuck.

Chuck picked up the drink, taking a sip, feeling like she was in some twisted version of an old western movie. "It's been two weeks Ned," Chuck said sadly. "She won't open her door, she won't do anything. She hasn't left her apartment once. And if she has then I don't know how she's doing it because I'm watching her."

"Like a hawk," Ned added making Chuck scoff at him. "Look, she's just grieving. She'll come out of it soon enough. If you ask me it's not that big of a loss."

Chuck scowled. "It is to her, Ned," she said bitterly. "She was finally--," Chuck stopped when she realized who she was talking to.

"She?..." Ned urged.

Chuck shook her head. "It's personal."

Ned sighed. "She'll be fine."

"She's going to tear herself apart!"

"Look...Olive...She's," Ned paused, trying to find the right word. "She's a firecracker. She'll come around soon enough and be better than ever."

Chuck groaned and slumped forward, resting her head on the cold marble of the counter. _A firecracker who has burned out_, Chuck thought.

"You just have to let her do what she needs to do," Ned said after Chuck chose not too.

Chuck grunted. "But I have to fix it," she muttered quietly.

"Why?"

"Because it's my fault," Chuck whispered.

"What?" Ned leaned forward slightly.

Sighing, Chuck slowly looked up. "It's my fault."

"_Your _fault?"

Chuck nodded.

"How is it your fault?"

"I—I pushed."

"You pushed?"

Chuck nodded her head. "She didn't want to be in a relationship with Jonah and I kept pushing her to do it. And I was helping him win her over."

"Chuck, whether you…helped," Ned coughed uncomfortably. The Pie Maker did not like talking about other people's romantic natures. "Jonah or pushed Olive, or whatever you think you did. It was still Olive's choice to do it. She could have locked herself in her apartment two months ago when Jonah first came around."  
Chuck sighed again. "I know, I just, can't help but feel a little responsible."

Ned smiled and moved his hand forward, just short of Chuck's arm. He tapped the counter lightly. "Just give her time, that's all it takes."  
"I have given her time, Ned," Chuck said, frustrated. "She needs to talk to _someone, _anyone, about it. She can't lock herself away. She's going to destroy herself if she does."

"Chuck, listen, I think--,"

"No Ned, you listen," Chuck said stubbornly getting of the stool and staring at The Pie Maker with a piercing gaze. "You didn't see her. When she actually let me into her apartment before…she—she wasn't the same Olive. She was guarded and…she scared me Ned, she actually scared me."

Ned sighed as Chuck began to pace; whispering quietly to her self. Ned had never seen Chuck so impassioned about anything in his entire time knowing her. The Pie Maker realized that there was still much he had to learn about the girl named Chuck. He had always known she had a big heart and was caring and kind. But Ned was slowly becoming aware of the magnitude of Chuck's heart and how much she really did care. If it were possible the Pie Maker fell in love with Charlotte Charles even more.

"I've got it!" Chuck suddenly yelled, snapping Ned from his thoughts.

"What?"

"_You_ talk to her."

The Pie Maker's eyes grew in diameter; his face frozen in shock. "M-m-me?"

Chuck nodded enthusiastically.

Ned suddenly started to babble, moving his mouth though no sound was coming out. He took a step back, waving his hands in front of him and tripped over something nonexistent. "I—I don't think that's a good idea," he finally managed to force out.

"It's the perfect idea!"

"Chuck, I'm probably the last person she wants to see or talk to right now."

"Actually, that would be Jonah, followed closely by me in second."

Ned's head quirked. "You don't know that."

"Sure I do," Chuck replied, "She told me so."

Ned's eyes widened further, unbelieving Olive could say such a thing.

"I told you she was different Ned."

The Pie Maker exhaled slowly. "I still don't know."

"Ned," Chuck sat back down again, a renewed hope running through her. "Whether you believe it or not, Olive cares about what you think. She takes to heart everything you say and do."

"Chuck she would run in the opposite direction."

Chuck waved her hand in the air. "Oh sure, at first. But once you got her to sit down and listen I think it would work."

"I don't know…"

"Ned, please, just think about it. I have to help her," Chuck paused, her eyes pleading. "_We _have to help her. Just…please."

The Pie Maker shifted and swallowed nervously.

* * *

As the Pie Maker and Charlotte Charles argued about how best to help their friend, Olive Snook was sitting on a bus.

Olive watched the roadside fly by, resting her forehead against the window. The glass was cold and wasn't warming under skin, but she didn't care. She had spent two weeks in the warmth of her apartment; at this moment, the cold was welcome. The woman sitting next to her was smacking her gum loudly and annoyingly and Olive wanted to tell her to can it. But, in all honesty, she didn't care. Because she didn't care about anything at the moment.

Olive was depressed. And Olive didn't get depressed. She got sad. Upset. Miserable. Emotional. But never depressed. Olive didn't think that she was capable of harvesting such an emotion. Depression was too…is too…depressing. And the fact that she was depressed, when she thought she never would be in her entire life, only depressed her further. Which depressed her further. And that depressed her further. And that even further.

Olive sighed and rolled her forehead off the window, relaxing into her seat.

She didn't know why she had suddenly decided to leave her apartment. As far as she was concerned she didn't ever want to leave the safety of her apartment again. She was tired of being hurt. It always happened. Time and time again. No matter how hard she tried she was always the one who ended up with the broken heart. And _he _had been the final straw. So she did the only thing she could think of the protect herself; locking herself away. It sounded childish and she knew it, but it was the only possible way.

But, now she found herself on a bus; to exhausted to drive herself. Olive didn't know why she chose to go to the destination she had. Perhaps it was the company. Perhaps she knew they wouldn't read _too_ much into the sorrow that she seemed unable to leave behind. Perhaps it was because they hadn't been involved in it like all the others had. They didn't even know. They were a separate entity all together. They were neutral.

And perhaps, most of all, it was because Olive knew they always made her smile.

Olive sat up straight and pulled the line that ran around the bus signaling the next stop as hers.

When the bus stopped, Olive had to squeeze past the woman sitting next to her; the woman being carelessly ignorant. Olive "accidentally" hit her purse from her lap as she passed. "Sorry," she whispered without looking back, allowing herself to smile, albeit wickedly, for the first time in a week and a half.

Olive knocked quickly on the door; feeling as if she were doing so for the first time. After a moment the door opened and Aunt Lily stared at her. Her single eye moved up and down, taking in Olive. "Where's the pie?" She asked.

Olive shifted, "I didn't bring a pie."

Lily paused for a minute then shrugged. "Yeah alright," she said, leaving the door open for Olive to follow her inside. Sighing, contentedly, Olive did just that.

* * *

"Olive, what a surprise," Aunt Vivian's tentative voice filled the room when the blonde walked into the room.

"She didn't bring a pie," Aunt Lily said, slumping into the couch.

"I don't always bring a pie," Olive said, taking off her coat and sitting down.

Lily shrugged.

"Well, of course you don't always have to have a pie," Vivian sympathized.

"What I want to know," Lily said, "Is why you do visit us without a pie. We're hardly the best company."

"I like your company," Olive said honestly.

"Charming," Lily replied. "I need a drink."

"Charming," Olive retorted, dryly.

"Lily, it's hardly even ten o'clock," Vivian said, abashed.

"It's five o'clock somewhere," was the muttered reply.

_Yes,_ Olive thought with an inward smile, coming here had been the perfect idea.

* * *

Olive sipped her tea, quietly listening to Aunt Vivian talk about some adventure she and Lily had gone on during their Darling Mermaid Darling days; Lily occasionally throwing in her own sarcastic barb. Olive wasn't as vocal as she usually was, encouraging the aunts to tell story after story and asking question after question. But it was enough. She need merely sit and listen to their adventures and a certain calm she had missed for a week and half washed through her. She didn't have to listen to a lecture about picking up her life again and starting anew. She just sat and listened to a story.

"…And it was the most magnificent feeling in the world," Vivian said. "Who knew walking with your eyes closed could be so invigorating."

"Until you run into a wall," Lily finished, wryly.

Olive gave a quiet muffled laughed, though her smile couldn't reach her eyes.

"Olive, is something wrong?" Aunt Vivian asked.

Olive cursed, thinking the aunts had actually not picked up on her blatant depression. "No," She lied. "Why would something be wrong?"

"Well you're just so quiet," Vivian answered.

"So she doesn't talk," Lily spoke, pouring herself another drink. "She isn't quiet enough if you ask me."

"Thank you," Olive scoffed. "It's good to know my company is welcome."

Lily shrugged.

"Something is wrong," Vivian decided for herself, eyeing Olive over her tea cup.

Olive blushed and gave a disregarding wave of the hand. "It's nothing."

"Oh come now, Olive, maybe we can help," Vivian said, setting her cup down and moving to a chair closer to where the blonde sat.

"It's a man," Lily said knowingly, before taking a long drink.

Olive's blush darkened. "Is not," she said quietly.

"Lily, how do you know?" Vivian enquired to her sister.

"When isn't it a man problem?" Aunt Lily sat up straight, setting her glass down. "You want our advice?"

"Not really," muttered Olive.

"Well here it is," Lily continued on, ignoring Olive's quiet protest. "I say, just give 'em up for good. No use going through all the trouble. We did," she motioned to her sister and herself. "Best decision I ever made in my entire life." Aunt Lily took a long drink and poured herself another glass.

Olive sat frozen as Aunt Vivian placed a sympathetic hand on her leg.

Aunts Lily and Vivian had given up on men, that was not new news to Olive, and they had given up on the world. In the past two weeks Olive had thought a lot about doing both things. And had nearly succeeded in the latter until taking her spontaneous trip to visit the aunts.

But now, sitting her listening to Aunts Lily and Vivian Olive suddenly felt unsure. They were two perfectly sane women who had had enough of the world and left it. Allowing their orphaned niece to take care of them. But now, they had no niece and they were falling apart, trying to get by in a life that was foreign to them. Olive didn't have a niece to look after her. She had no one who would wake in the morning and fix her breakfast or start the furnace or fix her tea. It was simply her, all by her lonesome. And what good was lonesome when you didn't have someone to share it with?

Olive had never been one to lock herself away so. The idea of being the old woman with cats who had her house egged by kids had never been one Olive liked. And she had always strived away from that path. But suddenly she found herself traveling said path, willingly accepting the open road with arms wide open. Shutting off the world and everybody in it.

But she couldn't do that. She was Olive Snook. The woman who thrived on others. Who thrived on life. A life outside her apartment. With people; her friends, her family. What would she be without her job at The Pie Hole? Without her visits to these two aunts she now considered her own? Without Ned and Chuck and Digby and, even, Emerson?

She couldn't continue on like this. She couldn't continue down a path that would slowly morph her into some combination of Aunt Lily and Aunt Vivian. Afraid of the world and the people who inhabited it. A woman who not only feared rejection…but love.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there you have it! I hope you enjoyed! It is with my deepest regret that I inform you all that the next chapter posted is going to be the last on this certain journey…

Thank you all for reviewing! I really appreciate it!!!

I'll update the next (and final) chapter as soon as I can! Probably some time later this week…

Until then,  
The Lonely Goatherd


	15. Fifteen: A Love Had, A Love to Gain

**Disclaimer: **Well I started this story not owning Pushing Daisies…and I end this story not owning Pushing Daisies…and I don't own the song "Someone to Watch Over Me" either...sigh...

**Author's Note: **I hope you all enjoy the last installment of "Someone to Watch Over Me" !!!

* * *

**Someone to Watch Over Me-  
****-Chapter Fifteen: A Love Had, A Love to Gain**

Olive Snook stared at her reflection.

She twisted the end of her waitress dress between her fingers. The once snug garment now hung loosely on Olive's petite frame. She swallowed self-consciously, not realizing how much she had actually let herself go in the last two weeks. What she thought had been a substantial amount of food now seemed like mere scraps and Olive wondered how she was still able to function properly.

Olive sighed and shifted the dress trying to make it look snugger than it was. The clock in the all chimed eight, signaling the top of the hour.

It had been three days since Olive visited Aunts Lily and Vivian. And for three mornings Olive stood in the same spot. Rooted in front of her mirror, trying to decided if she really should go back to work or not. For three days it had been the same thing. She would stand, dressed and ready to go, and when the clock rung at the eight o'clock hour she would sigh, turn, change back into her pajamas, and crawl back into bed. Once situated she would pull the comforter over her head and hide.

Olive often supposed that she was being ridiculous. She and Jonah had only been seeing each other for a month. That was hardly a commitment And what had happened to her was hardly terrible in the way that it could have been. Jonah could have done so much more damage than he had initially did. He could have actually taken her money, he could….she shuddered at the idea of worse things Jonah could have done to her. The list was nearly endless.

But it hadn't been so much of what Jonah had done but what he had stood for.

Olive had fallen for the Pie Maker in a way she had never fallen for anyone before. It was so bad that she had become near obsessed. She had shunned all other men who had come her way, ignoring the longing glances and the kind words. But then, there was Jonah. Infuriating, annoying, and charming. He had pulled her out of her little bubble that revolved around Ned. And she would be lying if she said that, though she had been reluctant, she hadn't felt anything for the incorrigible Jonah.

He had given her hope; she had given him trust. He took them both away, leaving her with nothing.

Olive sighed and shifted, trying to fix her dress.

She felt ridiculous. Not only had Jonah humiliated her, but the revelation of such an act had occurred in front of the people she cared about most. Her friends, her family that she had built in The Pie Hole. They had seen her break down and had seen her lock herself away because of it; the coward that she was. They knew everything. She could not hide it from them like she longed to. How could she ever face them again?

Yes she was being ridiculous.

Olive groaned and shifted her dress again, nearly ripping it in half.

As much as she loved Aunts Lily and Vivian she refused to end up like them. She could no longer hide away and shut herself down. She had to face the world. She had too move on. Jonah's goal had been to tear her down but she refused to let him win any longer.

With a less-than-confident nod Olive fixed her dress once again and walked to the door; before the urge to run back to bed over took her. It was time to start anew…no matter how much she wished she didn't have to.

* * *

It was cold outside. A fresh blank of snow covered the ground but the sky was clear. The roads and the sidewalks were icy; creating a small light show whenever the sun hit the pavement just at the right angle. A chill breeze blew gently through the air.

Olive stood outside the front door of The Pie Hole. She shivered and pulled her coat tighter around her frame, crossing her arms at her chest. The Pie Maker and Chuck were at the bar counter, Ned behind it, Chuck sitting before him. The two were engrossed in a conversation that had the Pie Maker smiling slightly. An elderly couple sat in a corner booth sipping coffee.

Olive had made it this far, but she some how couldn't bring herself to go any farther. Something inside her made her stop and she was considering running back up to her apartment. She was scared, but of what she didn't know. She sighed, resigned, ready to return to her safety haven.

But as luck would have it Olive would not be returning to her apartment that day. For just as her foot turned slightly the Pie Maker looked up and his eyes met Olive's. The blonde froze as Ned's eyes grew in size; he quickly said something to Chuck and pointed to the door. The woman quickly turned her own eyes the size of saucers. Before Olive could move another muscle Chuck had jumped from her chair and opened the door.

"Hi Olive," Chuck said quietly but enthusiastically, holding the door open so she could step inside.

"Hi," Olive said tentatively, her voice no louder than a whisper. She made no move to go inside.

Chuck fixed her gaze on the other woman and Olive focused on a crack in the pavement. Another chill wind blew through the air, picking up pieces of snow; Olive shivered and held herself tighter. Chuck merely stood, waiting for Olive to either walk away or walk inside.

"Excuse me, my dear," the elderly woman in the corner booth said. "We hate to be stingy," she motioned to her husband, "But it is rather chilly with you holding the door open."

"You heard the lady," Chuck whispered, smiling.

Olive blushed and walked inside. "Sorry," she said, embarrassed.

The couple smiled. "Think nothing of it," the man said before he and his wife once again started talking.

"Um, hi Olive," Ned said, not having moved from his spot behind the counter.

Olive scratched her elbow. "Hiya."

"How are you?" Chuck asked, walking up behind Olive.

Olive shrugged. "I'm here," she said, walking into the kitchen as she took her coat off.

* * *

Olive quickly scribbled the order for a slice of Apple Pie on her pad of paper, hardly recognizing her own hand writing. It was just past one o'clock and Olive felt as if she were going to fall asleep. She kept pinching herself lightly to insure that she didn't dose off mid-stride as she walked around refilling coffee cups and taking orders. She didn't know why she was so tired, having spent the better part of the past two weeks doing nothing but sitting around. She should be fully rested and full of energy. But she wasn't. Or she couldn't bring herself to be. She couldn't decide which of the two it was.

Sighing, Olive walked into the kitchen and began cutting the five slices of pie that had been ordered between three different tables, and setting them on plates. As she continued to serve up the pies she felt the beginnings of anger building inside her at the tasteful pastries; a feeling she couldn't quiet identify the why or how of. For a reason unbeknownst to her she began to fume, cutting the pie slices more vigorously than needed and hastily setting them on the plate.

Olive couldn't detect what had brought on the feeling, but she could do little to suppress it; though she tried. She quietly cursed Ned, for not having a proper tray for her to carry plates on, as she gathered the five plates in her arms. Awkwardly, she stomped towards the dining area, almost running into to Chuck in the door way.

"Oh Olive!" Chuck said, steadying the smaller woman by the shoulders. "Here let me help."

"I've got it, Chuck," Olive seethed quietly, pulling her arms away from the other woman.

"But Olive you look like you're going to--,"

"I said I got it!" Olive snapped, leaving a shocked Chuck alone in the kitchen.

* * *

Emerson Codd walked in The Pie Hole as Olive hastily placed the five pieces of pie on their respective tables. He had barley taken off his coat and hat and sat down when Olive huffed over to his booth; pouring him a cup of coffee.

"What kind of pie do you want?" Olive asked, rushed.

"How was your vacation?" Emerson asked instead of supplying an answer, opening his paper and scanning the pages.

"What?" Olive asked, freezing.

"You're vacation, how was it?"

Olive's brow furrowed. "Emerson what are you--,"

"You were gone for two and half weeks on vacation. I'm simply inquiring as to how it was," he said, nonchalantly, never taking his eyes off the paper.

Olive stood dumbfounded for a moment before realization at what Emerson was doing dawned on her. She felt a tension she hadn't known she'd been carrying leave her body. "It was okay," she said quietly. "I've had better."

Emerson nodded and turned a page of the paper. "You should tell Ned to give you more vacation time. Does wonders."

Olive was slightly stunned, unable to comprehend that Emerson was showing any sort of sympathy to her, even in his own indirect way. He had never seemed to care before. "Thank you, Emerson," Olive said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't touch me," Emerson warned as if it were casual news, never taking his eyes off the newspaper.

Olive pulled her hand away and wiggled her fingers. "I'll go get you a slice of pie," she said turning and walking away.

"Rhubarb," Emerson called after her.

For the first time in what felt like a long time, Olive smiled; wholeheartedly.

* * *

Olive sat in the kitchen sipping a cup of tea. Her thoughts jumbled but running none-the-less.

She felt a mess. She felt like her emotions were out of control, running without her consent. She hadn't been able to understand why she had gotten so angry before, but after her brief chat with Emerson it became clear.

All day long people had been treading around her. Stepping lightly. Treating her like a child with a cold. Ned was more awkward than usual and Chuck was nearly breathing down her neck. Trying to lighten her load, make her work easier than it already was. A sympathetic smile and a 'sorry' she could handle. But being treated like a doll made of glass, she couldn't, even if that was how she felt.

Olive felt almost out of control. One moment she was fine. The next she felt like crying. The next she felt like throwing something. And more than once she felt like smashing a slice of pie in a customers face.

She felt awful. Awful because she knew Ned and Chuck were trying to help, and in some way she was deflecting it. She felt slightly undeserving of it, embarrassed from it, and didn't want it. She didn't want them to feel sorry for her. She just wanted to go back to her life. How it had been before.

Olive's thoughts were interrupted when Chuck came into the room. "Oh Olive I didn't realize you were," Chuck rambled and turned. "I'll just leave you alone."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh I was just saying that I'll leave you alo--,"

Olive laughed lightly. "No Chuck, I heard you."

Chuck took a tentative step forward. "Then what are you apologizing for?"

Olive sighed and set her tea cup down. "For snapping at you earlier and for what I said to you the other week." She ran her finger around the edge of the cup. "I shouldn't have done that and I'm sorry."

"It's okay Olive. I know I can be pushy."

Olive laughed lightly then fell silent.

"Olive, do you…want to talk about anything?" Chuck asked, sitting down across from Olive.

Olive sighed. "I don't….know…I feel like I don't have a hold of anything right now….? I mean…I…don't know what I feel and what I should do about it…" Olive groaned and let her head fall the cold counter top.

Had the situation been due to any other circumstance Chuck would have laughed. "I understand. Well I think I do," she said standing up. Olive snorted. "Olive if you ever need to talk though…I always…" Chuck's voice trailed off, the two friends not used to expressing comfort to the other.

Olive nodded her head against the counter. "I know Chuck," she said quietly.

Sighing, Charlotte Charles left her friend to her own musings.

* * *

Had Charlotte Charles been able to touch the Pie Maker she would have done so at this precise moment by grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to a booth in the far corner of The Pie Hole. But since she could not do any of the above mentioned, she simply fixed the man with a stern gaze and marched over to the booth and sat down. After a moment Ned joined her.

"What?" The Pie Maker asked, worried.

"You have to talk to her," Chuck replied, getting right to what she wanted.

Ned sighed and rubbed the back of his neck; a gesture, Chuck was quick to learn, that meant he was uncomfortable. "I don't think that's a good idea Chuck."

"Ned…"

"Why don't you? You two are good friends now."

"Because she doesn't want to talk to me. And…I think I know why…" Chuck's voice drifted off and she looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Why?"

Chuck sighed. "Even though we're friends. I don't think she really trusts me Ned."

"What?" Ned as taken aback.

"Think about it Ned. The entire time I've known I've been keeping a secret from her. And she knows it."

Ned's face was suddenly alarmed. "She knows you have a secret?" He sounded more than panicked.

Chuck shook her head. "No, she doesn't know what the secret is. But she knows that I have a secret. She thinks I faked my death."

Ned's eyes widened. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Chuck huffed. "That's not the point," she bit out quickly. "I simply didn't see the point in it. She's completely wrong and as long as she stays on that track the better."

"Yeah but--,"

"Ned," Chuck warned. "That is not the problem right now, nor has it been a problem. You need to talk to her, because of everyone we know, she trusts you the most."

Ned was quiet for a moment and stared at the woman across from her. "But I'm keeping a secret from her too," he finally said after a moment's hesitation.

"But she doesn't know you are. She thinks I'm keeping my 'secret' from you too."

Ned sighed again. "Chuck, she's here, out of her apartment. Isn't that enough?"

"No," Chuck said firmly. "Ned, I've spent the majority of my life carrying for two reclusive women. She may be out of her apartment but that doesn't mean she's any better than she was when she was up there."

Ned sighed and twitched uncomfortably. "I don't know…"

"Ned," Chuck begged once more, "Please."

* * *

The Pie Maker turned the "Closed" sign in the window, letting out a relaxed sigh that the quite busy day had finally ended. Olive was sitting at the counter, slowly turning from side to side in one of the bar stools. Chuck stood in the kitchen door way, eyeing the blonde carefully.

"Olive," Chuck spoke, "Why don't you go home, Ned and I will clean up."

Olive smiled slightly. "Actually," she said, hopping off of the stool. "I was thinking I could clean up around here. I know I've been some what nuisance since I just disappeared without warning and have been sulking around here all day," she spoke quietly. Both Chuck and Ned opened their mouths to say something but Olive held up her hand. "Really, you two go and get some rest, I'll clean up."

"Olive," Chuck said, walking into to the dining room. "It's been no problem. Really. So why don't you go. We can clean up around here."

Olive shook her head adamantly, "No, I'll clean up. I want to." She paused then added a quiet, "Please."

Chuck looked to Ned who shrugged his shoulders. Chuck sighed the got an idea. "Okay," she said quickly grabbing her coat and Ned's. She swiftly walked to the door, throwing Ned's coat at him. "Goodnight Olive!" She called before turning to the Pie Maker. "Talk to her," she mouthed before opening the door and running from sight.

"What was that about?" Olive asked, brow raised.

Ned shrugged. "Not sure."

The Pie Maker and the Waitress stood in an uncomfortable silence.

Chuck's words ran through Ned's mind. The look in her eyes as she pleaded with him to talk to their friend. He sighed. "Olive?" He finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" The woman replied, looking Ned in the eye.

Ned froze and opened his mouth but the words he didn't even know how to say caught in his throat. "I---," he paused and Olive's brow quirked. "Are you sure you want to clean up by yourself?" He finally said with a sigh, knowing Chuck would kill him when she found out he didn't talk to Olive.

Olive smiled slightly. "I'll be fine, I promise. Now go," she said, waving her hands towards the door.

Ned smiled a small smile. "Goodnight Olive."

"Goodnight Ned," Olive replied, turning. As she listened to the sound of the dinging bell above the door Olive noticed something sticking out from underneath the counter, right by her foot. Intrigued she bent down and picked up it.

Upon discovering what the tiny object was Olive felt her throat constrict, her heart drop, and something inside her snap.

* * *

Just as the door was going to close behind the Pie Maker he heard a strangled sob emit from the restaurant. He turned slowly and grabbed the door before it closed, peeking his head inside. Olive was once again sitting at the counter, her body hunched over as she quietly cried.

Ned felt the constricted feeling he felt before, when he had watched Olive confront Jonah two weeks ago, run through his body. The panic that he suddenly felt told him to walk quietly away and go back home. But he knew, Chuck would kill him if he found out he hadn't talked to Olive and she would never speak to him again if she knew he had left their friend crying…alone. He didn't know which was worse.

And then there was the sobbing blonde before him. He hated to see people cry. It made him uncomfortable and slightly nauseous. He swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat and went to close the door. But something stopped him. Sighing, not knowing what he was going to do, Ned walked back in The Pie Hole.

* * *

Olive cried as she clutched the tiny playing card in her hand. The Ace of Hearts. How they had missed it that night she didn't know. It was ridiculous and stupid; she sobbed.

She hadn't cried since that night two and half weeks ago when she had learned the truth about Jonah. She had blocked the emotion out. Refusing to allow herself to do so. But now, as she sat crying harder than she ever had before, she finally realized how much she needed it.

She let out a cough as her breath hitched and became staggered.

"Olive."

Had she been in any other state of mind, Olive would have jumped at the sudden sound of Ned's voice behind her, but she didn't. She simply ignored it. Through her sobs she heard Ned fidget and sigh, then place his warm hand on her back.

She stiffened at the contact and recoiled, shrugging away. "Please don't," she said, getting up and sitting on a stool two seats away.

A palpable, uneasy silence filled the room. Quietly, Ned sat down on the stool next to Olive's but kept his body facing the door. Olive furiously wiped at her face, trying to dry her tears.

"What's wrong?" Ned finally asked. Olive scoffed and made a face.

Ned coughed. "Right." He shifted and rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean. Do you want to…I …but….maybe I can…help?"

Olive narrowed her gaze at him as silent tears continued to fall down her face. "Why do you care?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Ned's eyes widened. "I—well, we're friends, Olive," he stammered out.

"No offense Ned," she said, somewhat bitterly, still trying to dry her tear stained cheeks. "But you've never cared before."

Ned sighed and looked at the ground, twiddling his fingers nervously. They sat in another edgy silence until Olive's tears finally stopped flowing, reduced to nothing but mere sniffles.

"Olive," Ned spoke, once she had calmed. "I—I—I do care for you. We're friends. And I'm sorry if I don't show it as often as I do, but…"

Olive was more than taken aback at this small confession from Ned and she suddenly felt more at ease and more nervous than she had before. "Thank you," she spoke, hardly above a whisper. "I'm sorry for my outburst."

Ned smiled shyly. "It's understandable."

Olive gave him a small, unsure smile.

"So do you…uh," Ned coughed. "Want to talk about it?"

Olive's eyebrows rose as she eyed the Pie Maker. "I don't know if I'm necessarily comfortable talking about this with _you_ Ned."

Ned exhaled loudly. "That's what I've been trying to tell Chuck," he said before he could catch himself.

"I should have known she was behind this," Olive relied as lightly as she could.

Ned chuckled. "And I'm not the best at dealing with sympathy."

"_That_," Olive said, her usual nature showing itself slightly. "I can attest too."

Ned smiled.

"Go on Ned, really," Olive said, pushing on his shoulder lightly so he was standing. "I'll be fine. I'm just tired."

The Pie Maker stood before Olive knowing that, while she may be physically exhausted, that was not the kind of tired she was referring too. "Olive?"

"Hm?"

"I—," Ned sighed, not believing that he actually going to say what he was about to say. He caught Olive's gaze and held it. "No one deserves what happened to you. Especially you. And…maybe Jonah wasn't the right guy and maybe I--," he paused and coughed. "What I mean is…that…you deserve so much more and better." Olive blushed. "And there is someone out there and someday he'll walk through the door and everything will be okay…it…just…takes time," he finished, once again using the words he had expressed to Olive before.

By the time the Pie Maker had finished talking Olive was a deep shade of red and fresh tears were brimming in her eyes. "Thank you, Ned," she said quietly, overwhelmed at what the shy man had just told her.

Ned smiled his small shy smile and hesitantly took Olive's hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Goodnight Olive," he said, walking to the door.

"Goodnight," Olive quietly called after him. With one more smile Ned disappeared into the night.

As Olive watched the Pie Maker leave a weight—that she hadn't known was there—lifted from her shoulders. Slowly, she took in a deep breath, feeling like she was doing so for the first time.

It was funny, she mused, how different people could help you in their own ways and without you, or them, realizing it. Emerson had done so by being indifferent; Chuck had done so by being so pestering, Olive fighting her the whole way; and Ned had done so by opening up to her in a way he never had before.

Ned had been right. She didn't deserve what had happened; she didn't deserve the heart ache. There was someone out there who, in time, would love her with all his heart. He just hadn't walked through the door yet. And Olive knew that she couldn't fight it anymore. She would look for him and search. She would willingly accept it when it happened, instead of hanging on to the love of a man she could never have.

Olive looked at the playing card she still held in her hand. With renewed strength she crumpled it into a tiny ball and threw it into the trash bin behind the counter, hitting her target with precision.

Ned was right. Everything was going to be alright. All it took was a little time.

At that moment Olive realized that, while the Pie Maker may never love her in the way she had always dreamed, he loved her none-the-less. And love, in any form, was still love. And she would take what she could get.

Olive smiled slightly as she picked up the rag on the counter and began to wipe it down.

Olive Snook often imagined that there was an orchestra in her heart. Ready to play, willing to burst to life in song. And so she sang. The familiar song that was once a prayer, than an answered prayer, and was now a prayer once more spilled forth from her lips, warming her.

"There's a saying old says that love is blind, still we're often told seek and ye shall find…so I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had, in my mind." Olive gave a small turn and slid down the counter, wiping it clean along the way. "Looking everywhere, haven't found him yet. He's the big affair, I can not forget. Only man I ever think of with regret…"

Olive was so absorbed in her cleaning and singing that she did not notice the sound of the ringing bell above the door. It wasn't until she heard a soft voice speak behind her that she realized she was no longer alone.

"Hello, Olive," the quiet voice said. "I'm back."

Olive froze and her head snapped up, though she didn't turn. She stared at the wall across from her, looking at the 'Pie of the Day' sign. She didn't need to turn to know who was standing behind her.

A bright smile spread across her face. "Fredo."

_Fin_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there you have it! I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, it really means a whole lot!!

Well, I usually don't write sequels, but I may be writing one for this. When and if that happens I don't know cause I'm really busy with school now…but I really want to…so we'll see!

Thank you all again!!!

Until next time,  
The Lonely Goatherd


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